


I'm With You

by sighcobaby



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Gore, Depression, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Past Abuse, Racist Merle Dixon, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Sad and Happy, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighcobaby/pseuds/sighcobaby
Summary: ❝ If you're gunna be dumb, in this world, then you gotta be tough!❞Layla - knowing she's all alone, unarmed, hopeless, and living in a world where the dead want to feast on her flesh - plans to embrace her end on her own terms. Daryl won't let that happen.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Original Female Character(s), Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. The Days Before

**Author's Note:**

> This story will mention drug use, abuse, suicide and other ongoing mental health issues, sexual scenes, as well as the usual death, gore and violence of TWD.

The running felt like it would never end. Her nimble and wobbly feet dragged her up the forested hillside, her boots were heavy under the crisp fallen branches and leaves of the woodland floors. Her chest heaved deeply as she coughed, her palms sweaty as she clambered up the woodland hills, desperate to create more room between her and the City. Her hair stuck to her head as she continued running. The sounds of the dead no longer ringing in her ears but fear still coursing through her veins wildly.

Sunlight hit her face harshly as she came into a clearing, the rockiness of the hills seeming to flatten out as she dropped to the floor. She was relieved upon escaping the last herd but the daunting realisation she was now all alone in the world hit her immediately after, leaving her shaky and tearful.

Atlanta was supposed to be safe.

When she caught her breath she took off her backpack. It was a big camping rucksack, but it was sparse - she hadn't been able to grab much when the dead took over. She didn't have much to begin with. She searched through her belongings frantically; A couple changes of clothes, a few bottles of water, some canned food and trail mix, a rolled-up sleeping bag, and the all-important medication. That was all she had in this world now.

Pulling out her inhaler she used it a couple of times as she pondered her situation. She knew she couldn't stay there. The dead would eventually find her, breathlessly sat against an old oak tree. She didn't think the idea was all too bad – slipping away. She thought maybe she could find somewhere high nearby, keep climbing up this range until she got to the top and just end it there. It would be better than going out like the rest. It would be on her time. 

White lilies scattered the dark ground around her, covering the rough roots of the tree she sat nestled under. _'How cruel it is to have something so beautiful born into a world so ugly,'_ she thought.

Eventually, she picked herself back up and slowly hobbled amongst the trees, not knowing which way to go and which way to avoid, only that if she heard a noise to go in the opposite direction. As she walked, images of her father and her brothers came into her head. She wondered if they were safe, if they'd survived the outbreak back home in New Jersey. 

The sun was setting and she had been walking for hours up and down the mountainy nature reserve off of Interstate 85. Not a person dead or alive in site for miles.

When she finally came to a huge water creek at the clearing of the forest she was delirious and felt more exposed, the lack of shrubbery making her feel vulnerable to any of the dead that could be stalking around, hunting for fresh flesh to chew on. If she wasn't feeling like her world was crashing in around her she would happily have gone for a swim, caught a fish, built a fire. But with the images of her Aunt's dead carcass reanimating to attack her, life lost behind soulless eyes, she didn't feel like enjoying nature. Nature didn't seem all that nice anymore.

There was an old wooden bridge up past the lake. It hung high over the mountainy range of the reserve. She walked to it, taking off her backpack and throwing it just off of the bridge. She took out the crumpled family picture that she had neatly tucked away in the back pocket of her jeans. It was her smiling amongst her mother, father and brothers. She kissed the picture, looking longingly after it as she placed it with her backpack and walked over to the bridge. 

The sides of the bridge were like any others, wooden and easy to climb. And that's what she did. The sun got lower as she swung her legs off the side, letting them dangle as she watched the orange embers of the sky fizzle out into nothingness. The hues of blues grew deeper and deeper as she let out a shaky breath. She was scared, a coward. _'Anything is better than this.'_ She thought, closing her eyes and shuffling her body forward bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

And just as she was about to let her body fall into the abyss below: she heard it. Him. The sounds of hurried footsteps on the gravel and muffled words that her confused mind wouldn't seem to hear. She looked to where the voice had come from, her vision blared by tears she didn't notice had been falling.

He moved closer to her and spoke again but she still couldn't seem to make out his words. Almost as if any form of communication couldn't register in her mind. Like a ringing in her ears.

"It's a damn cold night," He said, a southern drawl on his deep voice. 

She cried. Hard. She let herself feel it. The exhaustion, the loss, the betrayal, the fear.

And just before everything seemed to go black she felt an arm wrap around her frame, pulling her from the edge of the bridge and into open arms.

"I got you. I'm with you. I got you."


	2. Full of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw. mentions of past suicide attempt, ethnic slur, the usual blood and gore of twd...

She awoke to the soft sounds of muffled voices. Her head was spinning as her eyes fluttered open, the pale blue fabric of the tent she was resting in seeped light through and warmed her face. The birds chirped sweetly as she shuffled around in her makeshift bed.

The murmuring voices outside seemed to die down as panic set in, now footsteps on the gravelly ground inched closer towards her. _'Where am I? Who brought me here? Am I dead?'_

Her breath caught in her throat as the zip on the tent opened up and she was face to face with the smile of a young blonde woman.

"She's awake!" The young woman shouted behind her. The tent door was ripped open, sunlight pouring in on her.

"Don't scare her, Amy." Another voice spoke softly as another woman joined outside the tent hurriedly. She crouched down carefully next to her shaking worrying form.

"Morning sleepyhead, how you feelin'?" The woman asked with a smile but she couldn't speak or respond, her voice caught in her throat and she realised how pathetic she must look.

"Where am I?" She managed to ask quietly after a moment. These people didn't look monstrous and they certainly weren't trying to eat her alive.

"You're just outside of Atlanta." She explained, "What's your name?"

"Layla."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Layla." She smiled warmly, a welcoming gesture Layla hadn't felt like she had seen in weeks. She spoke again, eager to comfort her as Layla's shaky arms gave her nervousness away, "Listen, we have a camp set up, far away from the dead. You're safe here and you're welcome to join us."

Layla relaxed slightly.

"What's your name?" Layla asked.

"Lori," She smiled again, reaching her hand out for her to take, "Come on, I'll show you around."

Layla, hesitant at first, entrusted Lori, taking her hand with a weak smile and stepping out of the tent into the heat of Georgia.

The camp she stood in was at the edge of a reserve park, in a quarry high up enough to scope out the land for miles ahead and guarded by an array of trees and shrubbery. There were tents, campfires, laundry hung up on makeshift washing lines, a huge camper van and truck filled with buckets of fresh clean water.

Layla felt her eyes start to fill up. In a time when she felt as if there was no hope left in this world, no one else left alive, she was somehow thrown into the hands of a community surviving together through the harsh odds of this world.

"You okay?" Lori asked.

"Yeah, I just, I didn't think I'd ever see another living person again." Layla let out a laugh, wiping her face on her dirty jumper.

"Well, look who's managed to finally wake up," A man spoke from behind her breaking her out of her sob story, a cheerful smile on his face, "Our new arrival!"

He stood high above her on what she assumed was his camper van, hands outstretched happily, binoculars around his neck and bucket hat pulled on over his head of white hair. He smiled, hurrying down the ladder and coming to greet Layla.

"This is Dale," Lori smiled.

"Nice to meet you," Layla smiled weakly, still beyond nervous but adamant on keeping her politeness, "How many of you are there?"

"I'd say at least twenty of us," Dale replied, "Come on, I'll introduce you."

He brought her along to where a lot of their established group sat, huddled around a small campfire, the embers of which were currently heating up pans filled with beans and rice.

"Everyone, this is Layla, make her feel welcome now won't you?" Dale said with a smile, greeting a man who had introduced himself as Morales and their family. The rest of the group gave her little hellos and waves.

Lori introduced her to her son, Carl, and Shane, the somewhat designated leader of the camp who made room for her around the fire and invited her to join them in eating.

"We ain't got much, but we're getting by, so help yourself. You look like you ain't ate in days." He said with a smile, handing her a bowl of hot beans. Layla felt her stomach grumble.

"I aint," Layla smiled, taking the food, "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"You ain't gotta say anythin', the only way we're gunna survive this thing is by doing it together." He spoke strongly and confidently.

"So where'd you come from then Layla?" He asked, the group quiet as they listened and ate.

"Uh, I'm actually from New Jersey," Layla replied, "I was visiting my Aunt and Uncle. They lived just outside Atlanta. I was workin' in their shop when everything went, um, ugly." She trailed off, fidgeting in her seat and picking at her thumbnail with her middle and index fingers.

"And your Aunt and Uncle?" Andrea, who had introduced herself as Amy's sister asked.

Layla didn't respond just looked solemnly at her feet. They all knew what her silence meant. They had all lost someone; she could see it on their faces, in their eyes as they looked on her, not with pity, but with understanding. Layla felt guilty because, in reality, she didn't really care much about her Aunt and Uncle. It was the uncertainty of her family back home that made her heart break.

"How did I get here?" Layla asked, genuinely confused as her mind seemed to retrace her steps before she arrived. The images of her feet dangling off the edge of the rocky Quarry springing to her mind as she looked down a little embarrassed.

"Daryl found you," Shane and Lori both eyed each other, a worried glance that made her realise they probably all knew about the state she was in before she was found.

"Daryl?" Layla asked.

"I'm sure you'll meet him later."

"If you'd even wanna go near him and Merle that is." Another survivor scoffed. Layla didn't question this as Dale spoke.

"He said he found you out there, further out down past the lake. Said you were pretty upset." Dale said with a worried soft glance at her.

"Dale, don't pressure her," Andrea said softly.

"No, it's okay. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me," Layla smiled, "I didn't think there was anyone else left alive. I didn't want to die from exposure or starve to death and, well, I especially didn't wanna become one of those things... If this Daryl hadn't come when he did, I don't think I would be here."

Layla found herself trying to envision him in her head, this Daryl, this mystery man who had saved her life. Lori pulled her out her thoughts by giving her hand a little squeeze, an affectionate wordless understanding. This world was hard now, and going at it alone wasn't something anyone there would want.

"You killed any?" Another survivor spoke.

"T-Dogg!" Andrea said annoyed, putting another name to another face, "Leave the poor girl alone." T-Dogg held his hands up in protest.

"Was only askin'!" He shrugged.

Layla breathed out a laugh, "A couple. I did have a hunting knife but I have no idea where I left it. I'm assuming it's somewhere in Atlanta."

"You hunt?" Shane asked upon the mention of the knife.

"Not much. I used to camp back home with my brothers, I can find small animals, catch fish, nothing too big. Good with berries and stuff too."

"Good. Food's getting scarce and when we start runnin' low on supplies we're gunna need all the help we can get."

Layla nodded, seemingly happy to help.

"You know what you're lookin' for today Glenn?" Shane asked, his attention now on another member of the group who had stood up away from the rest.

"Yeah, I'm gunna hit up the gas station off of Hill Street, in and out." He said, throwing on his backpack and fixing his cap to his head.

"Wait, you said Hill Street right?" Layla asked. Glenn nodded, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I literally just came from there. That gas station got ransacked weeks ago and the entire park over the road is crawling with the dead, not many places to wait it out if you get trapped."

Glenn nodded and shot her a smile, "Thanks. Usual city route it is then."

Shane gave her a thankful nod and walked with Glenn a little further out of the makeshift campsite. The group wasn't around the fire much longer, putting out what little of the embers were left blazing with a few kicks of rubble and mud.

"I'm gunna do some laundry down by the lake, if you want I can take those clothes you're wearin' and give 'em a good scrub? I'm sure I have some spare clothes that will fit you." Lori smiled.

Layla nodded, following Lori to her tent with a simple, "Thank you."

Layla went to change in Dale's camper. He had offered her a sleeping space on the camper floor since all the beds were currently taken and nobody had a spare tent. Layla gladly accepted, and when she was changed and had managed to wash her face, left the van to get another feel for the camp.

Layla felt her stomach churn as she began to change upon the realisation she didn't have her backpack - her medication. She hurried to pull the clean shirt Lori had given her over her head, relishing slightly at the feel of clean fabric, and made her way out of Dale's van. The distant sounds of a car rumbling off out and away from the camp caught her eye just before she spotted Dale sat perched on look-out in a little camping chair atop of his van.

"Um, Dale?" Layla called up to him.

"What can I do you for? Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah," Layla nodded, "I was just wonderin', when I got here last night, did I have my bag with me? It had some stuff in it like food, medicine, water, that kind of thing."

"You're best askin' Daryl when he gets back from huntin', if not I wouldn't worry too much, Glenn's a good scavenger so I'm sure he can find whatever it is you might need." He advised. Layla gave a thankful nod and a smile but worried still. She needed her inhalers almost daily and Glenn had already left.

_'There's that Daryl's name again.' _Layla thought, wondering just when she would put a face to the name.__

__She theorised that her bag may still be down by the bridge at the lake. Lori had said she was going down that way to wash up so Layla thought the walk there and back wouldn't be too dangerous. She made her way towards the edge of the camp, stopping to ask T-Dogg on the way for directions._ _

__The walk wasn't too far out, the trees were much more scattered as the hillside descended and birds chirped seeming blissfully unaware of the flesh-eating monsters that could be lurking amongst these very woods. If she closed her eyes it made her feel like she was back home, in her garden with her dad and brothers. The memory unable to compare to the reality she now lived._ _

__When she arrived at the creek it was barren of any living thing, water lapping softly at the edges of the gravelly water bank. Lori was nowhere to be seen and neither was her backpack. She made her way over closer to the bridge, muddy rocks crunching softly under her boots as she looked around for her bag._ _

__A feeling of regret filled her chest as she looked over on the bridge where Daryl had found her and whilst her eyes lingered on the spot she had tried to jump from a snapping of branches came from the trees behind her._ _

__Layla whipped her head around instantly, her guard up and heart racing. "Lori?" Layla asked, hopeful but worried._ _

__When a figure, covered in blood and bile came shuffling slowly out of the trees, groaning and staggering as it stepped onto the gravelly path, Layla sighed deeply._ _

__"Really?" She asked out loud, annoyed and kicking herself for not making sure she had a weapon before she left the camp._ _

__Layla slowly circled around the walker, leading it around so she could back towards the trees. It gnashed its decaying jaw bones together and Layla cringed at the exposed flesh and bone. She would be lying to herself if she didn't feel slightly scared or worried. She knew she could outrun a single walker - but uphill and without inhalers would be risky. She needed to fight._ _

__She backed away quickly desperate to find anything she could use to throw or hit the walker with. Grabbing a large wooden stick that was about half her size, she fumbled slightly as she tried her best to keep an eye on the hungry monster making its way towards her._ _

__She snapped the thick branch over her knee, she had done this before but each time was just as terrifying as the last, especially when weapon-less and unprepared._ _

__Breathing deeply, she prepped herself. _'It's now or never.'_ She thought, reaching her hand up shakily with the sharp broken wood in her hand, waiting for the monster to get just close enough for her to strike._ _

__And when it was almost reaching for her and her arm was lifted just in front of the walkers face, its brains suddenly bludgeoned in from the back of its head. An explosion of blood dripped down its rotten skin and its body fell limp against the floor. A man stood behind it, big and sweaty with a manic look on his face._ _

__"Ye tryna get yourself killed girl?" He shouted in a heavy southern accent, his voice scratchy like he had been smoking cigarettes every day since he was 10._ _

__Layla stood, a little in shock as she looked on at the corpse that sat almost against her feet, "Can ye speak, huh?" He asked again._ _

__"I had it under control," Layla said quietly._ _

__"With those drumsticks?" He laughed loudly, "Course ye did."_ _

__Layla didn't take her eyes off of the walker, still afraid it would move and bite her ankles, only speaking when she realised that the knife now stuck out the back of its head was familiar._ _

__"That's my knife." She said, yanking it out of the walkers head and wiping the excess blood on its frayed and torn clothing._ _

__"I think not." The stranger who stood in front of her grabbed her arm roughly, attempting to yank the knife out of her hand._ _

__Layla knew she couldn't overpower the man; his wrist clasped hers tightly as he gave her an evil grin. She was impulsive and stubborn though, and her mouth shot out an insult before she felt like she had time to think herself out of the situation._ _

__"Get off me tu piezza di merda!" She shouted, struggling against his grip and trying to shove him off of her. He crossed his brows, clearly outraged at the foreign insults Layla had threw at him._ _

__"What's goin' on?" Another voice seemed to come from further behind the man. It was surly and southern much like the man who still gripped her wrist tightly._ _

__"Found myself a little guidette all alone out here." He taunted, the slur stinging Layla and she attempted again to wriggle out his grasp._ _

__"What did you just call me?" She kicked him hard in the shin. And it was hard because he let out a little hiss and he loosened his grip on her wrist long enough for her to shove away from him and stumble backwards onto the ground._ _

__"You little bitch!" The man shouted._ _

__"Merle, lay off'a her!" The second voice came from behind him and suddenly Layla realised she was putting faces to the names she had heard so much back at camp._ _

__Merle and Daryl. As first impressions go, Merle hadn't done much to subside from the negative views the rest of the camp had on him. Daryl had stayed quieter and Layla felt like she shouldn't judge him based on what Merle was like._ _

__She actually thought Daryl was quite cute, handsome in an unusual way._ _

__"Ay!" The familiar shouts of Shane came as he, followed by Lori, hurried over to Layla's side, "What's goin' on?"_ _

__"Oh nothin', just savin' our new arrival from this ugly bastard." Merle laughed, kicking the freshly killed walker with a laugh as Layla got to her feet and brushed herself down, knife now tucked in the belt on her jeans._ _

__"I don't need savin." Layla shot back._ _

__"Sure looked that way to me."_ _

__Shane looked Merle up and down as tension in the air rose and then faced back to Layla, "You okay?"_ _

__Layla nodded, "I'm fine. Ain't no redneck asshole on this planet that scares me."_ _

__"Well aren't you full of fire, princess?" Merle laughed, his tone angry, "Y'know ye should be thankful; that's twice me and my brother saved your dumb ass."_ _

__"Y'know you're right. I have a gift for you to show my appreciation." Layla acted with a fake face of thankfulness, rooting around in her back pocket as if she was searching for something only to pull out her empty hand and give Merle the middle finger, "Have that."_ _

__As she walked back up the hill, a little shaky and backpack still not in her possession she heard the light laughter coming from behind her._ _

__"What're you laughin at?" Merle shouted at Daryl and Shane as they all followed behind Layla._ _

__When they got back to camp Layla sat frustrated at the events that just occurred back at the lake. _'At least I have my knife back,'_ she thought as she sipped on a bottle of water. She worried she may not be able to trust these people, they were complete strangers after all. What if they all started to turn on each other? What if they started to turn on her?_ _

__Daryl and Merle both arrived back at camp shortly after her, Lori and Shane. Merle tutted as he made his way into their tent. Daryl wasn't far behind him. He watched his brother enter their tent but stopped to let his eyes linger on the brunette who sat around what was their campfire, playing with the frayed edges of her jeans._ _

__Layla was too preoccupied with the feeling of dread and wondering about her backpack to notice Daryl's eyes on her. She didn't exactly want to strike up a conversation anywhere near Merle and ask him about her bag. And just as the thought came into her head it had evaporated as Daryl threw her rucksack at her feet._ _

__She looked up at the man who was stood a little closer to her now, crossbow slung over his exposed and tattooed shoulder._ _

__"Found it this mornin'. Your photo's in there too." Daryl pointed as he watched her face get a little brighter in colour._ _

__"Thanks." She said awkwardly and quickly adding in a, "Thank you for yesterday too," before he could leave._ _

__He nodded in acceptance. "You wanna live now?" He asked._ _

__Layla shrugged, riffling through her backpack, "I don't know if I'm gunna survive this."_ _

__"Ye won't with that attitude."_ _

__"I have asthma," She smiled at him, pulling out the couple of inhalers she had managed to nab before the pharmacy closest to her Aunt and Uncles house in Atlanta got overrun. She gave them a quick count and shoved them back into the rucksack, "Even if I got tonnes of medication, most of it'll expire in a few years." Layla explained as she stood and hung the strap of her bag over her shoulders, now eye level with the bowman, "In a few years there will be nothing to help me."_ _

__"Is that a no?"_ _

__"Ain't decided." She smiled at him. He gave her a small smirk back, watching her as she went towards Dale's camper._ _

__"You hurt?" Daryl asked, pointing at the little purple bruises forming on her wrist from where Merle had grabbed her earlier._ _

__"I've had worse." Layla shrugged, an image of her Uncle smacked her face as she sat on their dining table, her Aunt washing dishes in the sink seemingly unphased popping into her head. Daryl watched as she swallowed nervously and looked to the ground._ _

__"You stayin'?" Daryl asked, curious._ _

__"I don't know where else I'd go."_ _

__He nodded._ _

__"If you and Al Capone are done conversatin' then I'd like to get some damn shut eye!" Merle shouted from inside his tent._ _

__"Y'know Al Capone'd kick his ass and so will I if he don't shut his damn mouth," Layla said loud enough for Merle to hear from his tent._ _

__Daryl couldn't help but smirk as the brunette wandered off again, her curled hair swaying across her back as she walked._ _


	3. Where Are Your Shoes, Rambo?

_She was running again, running so fast but feeling as though no matter how fast her legs were going and how much her thighs ached they were not pushing her any further away from the house in which she had bolted from. The screams of her name painfully echoed down the street she ran through, as she dodged the three walkers that now followed her every step._

__

__

_The flashing memory of her Uncle's face plagued her senses. He pulled out a knife. There was a banging from the locked wooden bedroom door as her undead Aunt groaned for freedom and flesh. He came for her, swinging his blade around as her Aunt crashed through the door, face pale and eyes sunken in like caves._

Bolting upright in a sweat, perspiration was heavy on Layla's forehead as she tried her best to steady her breathing and wipe away the tears that had stained her hot cheeks.

"Layla, are you alright?" Amy asked in a whisper.

Layla nodded, "Just a nightmare."

"It's okay. I get them too."

What little moonlight that seeped in through the plastic camper van windows illuminated Amy's face just enough for Layla to make out her soft genuine smile.

After a couple more moments of silence, Layla spoke again, "I'm gonna go for a walk, clear my mind."

"Fresh air will do you the world of good," Amy whispered back, "Just be careful, okay? Take your knife."

Layla nodded. She had been at the camp for around a week now, settling in quickly but still suffering every time she closed her eyes to get rest. Even though she was surrounded by people she grew closer and closer to every day, the feeling of safety was still absent.

Planning on a midnight stroll by the lake, she brought with her a change of clothes and after pulling on her chunky dirt ridden boots, lacing the front of them up quickly and quietly creeping out of the camper van, she was off.

A whistling came from atop of Dale's van. Layla looked up to spot her least favourite of the redneck boys, binoculars dangling confidently around his neck - despite it being dark out, she could easily see his gigantic smirk.

"Where ye think ye goin' princess?" Merle asked with a grin.

"A walk." Layla sighed. She knew he was high and she didn't feel like dealing with a methed out redneck. Not being particularly fond of him, high or not, she intended to ignore his question and continue walking.

"Well, where?" He asked again.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"You sure about that?" Merle replied, jumping down from his spot on Dale's van, "Cause why on earth would a pretty little thing like you wanna be out here so late on your little lonesome. Now that just don't make sense, does it?"

"Like I said, I'm goin' for a walk. I can't sleep." Layla gave him a snarl.

He got up in her face a little, giving her a passive-aggressive, "Enjoy your walk."

Biting her tongue – to save blowing up at each other and waking everyone up - she left Merle and followed the path down to the Lake that she now knew well. After the two previous experiences she had down there you would assume she disliked it, yet most of her time was spent down there; scrubbing clothes with Carol, teaching Carl how to skim pebbles, and showing Sophia and Morales' kids how to make their own fishing rods.

The moon was high and huge, the light pollution so minimal that the sky was illuminated full of stars bright enough to bounce off the blue water and highlight every little ripple of movement on its surface.

Layla wasn't the most body confident person in the world, but even if she was, knowing Merle Dixon was up at the top of the creak would make anyone squeamish about stripping; her plans of a midnight wash spoiled before they had even started.

She still sat near the rocky bank of the lake, taking off her muddy boots and fluffy socks and dipping her tippy toes into the icy cool water. The days were hot in Georgia, the night's sometimes hotter, and the temperature of the water felt blissfully cool.

Lying down, her back against the gravelly floor and her toes still in the water, she looked up at the midnight sky, naming the constellations in her head and letting a tear fall down her cheek at the memory of her elder brother sitting out late with her at night in the garden just to teach her the names and tell her their stories.

A crunching of feet disturbed her peaceful weeping; she sat up quickly spinning around and being met with a crossbow pulled and aimed at her head.

"Christ woman! Thought you was a walker!" Daryl said loudly as he lowered his crossbow to his side.

Layla wiped her face as she apologised, not even the slightest bit mad at him for nearly taking her head off.

"You cryin'?" Daryl asked but she did not reply, the tone of his voice not nearly as sympathetic as it could have been, "Y'know if you're gonna be dumb in this world ya gotta be tough."

"Dumb?" Layla asked with a frown, "I'm not dumb, and I certainly ain't soft."

"You sure? Cause all I seem to see you do around here is cry!" Daryl said back.

Layla felt stung at his words, "What, I'm not allowed to cry?" She started to argue back, he watched her as she let out her frustration in silence, "The worlds gone to shit, all my family are dead and we could all die any minute of every day and I ain't allowed to cry cause some know-it-all with a crossbow got a chip on his shoulder?"

Daryl tutted, "Whatever."

"Y'know, just cause your brothers an asshole doesn't mean you gotta act like one too." She said before turning back to face the lake.

She expected Daryl to grumble under his breath and walk away like he often did if she stood up to him and Merle. She expected him to head back to camp, leave her on her own, but he stayed, her words stinging him in the chest just as much as his words did to her. He flung his crossbow over his shoulder and sat next to her on the ground. Layla never asked why; Daryl often continued to surprise her.

"Why you out here on your own this late?"

"You even care?"

"Ya gonna tell me anyway?" Daryl avoided the question with another snarky response and Layla sighed unable to contain the little smirk on her face. Daryl was certainly a Dixon, but the one brother she couldn't help but find herself still liking.

"Couldn't sleep." Layla said with her head hanging down to her lap, "I like the stars and the lake."

"Ye like walkers too? Pretty stupid to be sittin' out here alone and unarmed."

"Who said I'm unarmed?" She argued.

Daryl shrugged, and, expecting him to ask why she was crying, Layla stayed silent for a while. He did too; the both of them silently looking across the lake and listening to the hooting of an owl calling out from a distance.

"See those stars right there?" Layla asked, breaking the silence and pointing to the sky.

Daryl looked to the sky, following her pointed finger.

"Kinda looks like a teapot, right? That's the constellation Sagittarius." Layla said, looking to the sky and she spoke, "The story is, the Greek God Cronus had an affair with a mortal woman disguised as a stallion and this woman gave birth to Chiron, a centaur and an archer."

Daryl's attention had turned from the stars to the woman who sat close next to him. He watched her lips as she spoke of the story fondly, a smile curved on her face like she was living in the story, away from the death and the destruction of their current world.

"Centaurs were thought to be savage and cruel. But Chiron was the opposite. He was wise, gentle, and good. One day he was hurt really badly by Hercules. He knew he wasn't going to survive so he begged Zeus for immortality. Zeus felt sorry for him and granted his request. It's said he located Chiron in the sky as the constellation Sagittarius, where The Archer stands with a bow and arrow for all of time. Protecting the skies."

Layla was smiling – the first Daryl had seen it. It was sweet; she had dimples, her deep hazel eyes stayed big and wide. When he caught himself staring he gave a little cough.

"Why ye tellin' me this?" Daryl asked confused.

"Thought you'd like it." Layla shrugged and smiled at him, standing up on her bare feet and carrying her boots by their laces, "Greek Gods, horse-human hybrids, Archers. Not your thing?"

"Don't believe in any of that crap." Daryl shrugged it off.

"You believe in the dead coming back to life and eating people?" Layla said with a smirk. Daryl let out a huff of a laugh, standing up to join her.

"You find anything out there?" Layla asked as she started to walk back to camp. Daryl walked slowly behind her.

"Couple'a squirrels."

Daryl looked down at her feet, noticing she was still without shoes or socks. Her feet were muddy and wet; he shook his head with a laugh.

"What are you laughin' about?" Layla asked, not missing his almost silent chuckle.

"Nothin' Rambo." He said coming to walk next to her rather than behind. Squirrels dangled from his belt and he wore a big smirk on his face.

Layla felt her face going a bit red.

"I don't like shoes much." Layla laughed trying to explain her oddness, her cheeks still hot and her face a little embarrassed.

"I don't like haircuts but I still get 'em." Daryl gave her a smirk.

"Unless you want a fresh trim off of Lori we'll see about that."

By the time they arrived back at camp the warm orange southern sun was beginning to rise above the creek, the stars slowly fading away and the birds had begun to awaken.

Dale hurried over to her when they arrived back at camp, side by side. It couldn't have been much later than 6am and yet he was awake and worrying.

"Where have you been? I've been looking for you!" Dale said with a desperate sigh of relief.

"I'm okay!" Layla reassured him with a smile, "Just went for a walk - clear my mind."

"You worried me," Dale said, patting her on the back and giving Daryl a side-glance.

"She's fine old man." Daryl scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Where are your shoes?" Dale asked confused, staring at Layla's mud-soaked feet.

"Don't like 'em." Layla shrugged.

"I can see that." Dale laughed, "You'll get trench foot if you aren't careful."

"Dale this isn't World War Two, I'm not gonna get trench foot from a bit of mud," Layla laughed, noticing Andrea looking at her bare feet too as she stepped out of the camper with a stretch, "Is everybody afraid of my toes or somethin? Didn't know you were all so sensitive to my bare feet."

"You're so weird." Andrea laughed.

"I get it, bein' one with nature and all that stuff ain't ye girl?" Merle called out from atop of the camper.

Layla pointed to him with a surprised laugh, "See? Even Merle gets it, man."

Merle held up his hand, his fingers making a peace sign as Layla gave him a laugh.

_'Dumbass,'_ she thought.


	4. Mushroom Madness

"How did we get stuck with this job?" Amy sighed, her pale legs carrying her across fallen branches, snapping and crunching with every tired step.

"I don't know," Layla sighed, following behind her, "I think I'd rather be doing this than laundry."

Amy gave a small laugh, "Good point. If I have to hear Jacqui talk about how much she misses her glorified kettle one more time I'm going to lose it."

Layla laughed in agreement, ducking under a couple of fallen mossy trees and keeping her eyes trained on the forest ground, "You know what you're looking for, right?"

"Anything that looks like a mushroom, I'll pick it. I'll let you sort out the ones we can and can't eat 'cause that I'm not so good with."

Layla nodded at the younger blonde with a soft smile, "Let's just say if it ain't white or brown avoid it for now."

The girls walked further out into the forest until the trees became sparse, leaving enough room for them to spread out and search the forest floors for any hidden gems hiding amongst fallen leaves, branches and rocks.

"How'd you learn about mushrooms and stuff?" Amy asked as she crouched to the floor, picking up some tiny white mushrooms from the bottom of a tree trunk. They were a little rough and fleshy like and Amy cringed as her fingertips squeezed against them.

"My parents loved camping," Layla smiled, reminiscing on the memories replaying in her head as she looked around the area intently, "They used to take me and my brothers out all the time when we were kids."

Silence fell between them as her eyes spotted something from around the other side of the large tree she stood in front of. The white and pale orange spikes stuck out from its gills, its bright flesh a contrast to the dark muddy forest floor.

"Hey, Amy, come look!" Layla said happily, moving away from her find slightly so Amy could join and have a good look, "These are called Hedgehog mushrooms! They have no poisonous lookalikes so they're super safe for picking and stuff – and they taste bomb."

The day went by quite similar to the rest; Layla showing Amy which mushrooms were safe and which weren't. The sun seemed to just get hotter and hotter and when the girls were low on water and pretty far from the camp they decided to head back; the walk back seeming longer than the walk there.

After a while, a feeling of dread seemed to eat away at Layla's stomach. She was barely able to open her mouth to express her concerns when Amy's sudden scream filled the open air around them. Amy's blond locks were yanked back by the hand of a rotting geek, its bottom jaw unhinged, trying desperately against the girls struggling form to bite her pale flesh.

Amy's cries caused Layla to whip her head around and hurry to the girls' aid, stabbing the living dead aggravator through its skull. The crunch of bone sent a shiver up Layla's spine. The thought of how easy the knife seemed to disappear in the head of the attacker lingering on her mind. Its bony arms that had tightly gripped onto Amy's hair fell limp, releasing their grip as Layla used all her might to throw the now lifeless vessel to the ground. Amy almost dived across the forest floor away from the re-dead corpse.

Layla looked at Amy who was shaking, fear written on her tear stained face. Crouching down to the muddy ground Amy now sat on she checked her frantically for bite marks or scratches.

"Are you alright?" Layla put her hand on Amy's shoulder for comfort.

Amy looked up at the older girl, her eyes widening with fear as she attempted to choke out a warning. Sensing her fear and understanding why her eyes seemed to look through her and not at her, Layla turned her back, just as another of the dead launched for her. It knocked her off of her feet and onto the ground.

Her knife fell out of her grip as the weight of the hungry dead man pressed her down into the hard earth below, the crushing of mud against her back making her wonder for a split second if her future grave would be more comfortable than this. Layla kept one forearm against the snapping mans chest.

"AMY! HELP!" She shouted, struggling against the dead man's strength, his gnawing teeth inching closer and closer to her head with every plee.

Everything seemed to happen so fast; Amy sat in complete shock unable to help her friend as the increasing shouts from Layla seemed to not penetrate her ears at all. It was like the world had gone silent to her as Layla struggled, kicking her knees up and trying to buck the man off of her, still desperately trying to reach her knife, a rock, anything, with her free hand to defend herself.

The monsters teeth came just above her face. The yellowing sunken eyes of the man that once lived in the very body that was attacking her bore into her own, void of any emotion; there was only hunger now. And just when Layla's adrenaline and strength seemed to get the best of her, the man fell limp, the blood of his now open skull spattered all over her face and poured all down her front. An arrow stuck proudly out of its eye socket.

Layla pushed the second limp body off of her own, her arms now shaky from the strain and fight against the walker.

Her eyes landed on Amy who looked on at the body and Layla's bloody form in terror and guilt.

"You bit?" The demanding voice of Merle Dixon broke Layla out of her trans.

Amy shook her head, unable to move anything else as she sat terrified in the place she had landed not so long ago.

"You bit?" Merle directed to Layla.

"You wish." Layla huffed out, wiping the blood on her dirtied shirt sleeve, and shakily standing to her feet.

Merle shook his head, whispering "This woman, I swear." With a roll of his eyes and a hint of a smirk she would easily catch.

Layla's attention was not on Merle for long as the younger Dixon brother retrieved the arrow that protruded out of the walkers head with ease. The crunching of its skull made Layla's stomach turn; the stench of its brains that clung to her clothes could make anyone sick.

"Thanks." Layla said, "I didn't hear him coming."

Daryl nodded, accepting the appreciation, his exterior still always a little colder in the presence of his elder sibling.

"You good?" Daryl asked, holding his hand out for Layla to take as she sat slumped on the floor.

Layla took it, Merle shot them an odd look. "Mushy pickin' used to be a lot more fun." Layla sighed, thinking of the time she once found psychedelic ones with her ex boyfriend when they were eighteen as she wiped her blood stained face onto her sleeve and dusted off her dirty backside.

"Stop yer cryin' girl! Don't wanna draw more of em out do ya?" Merle sighed, a look of annoyance on his face but his stance a lot less threatening when speaking to Amy.

"Don't shout at her," Layla sighed quietly, shushing Amy with blood still stuck to her flushed cheeks. She helped the blond to her feet, and, between the endless apologies and tears, they managed to follow the Dixon brothers back to camp.

47 mushrooms up, 2 walkers down.

Scratching overgrown shrubs grazed against her legs as the four pushed out towards the Camp. Amy's cries hadn't been whimpers for very long; flooding her face as soon as her sister Andrea ran to her wildly. The rest of the camp soon followed, an endless bombardment of questions Layla didn't feel like answering. 'What happened?' 'Are you alright?' 'Were you bitten?' 'What are those things doing so far towards camp?' 'Are we safe here?'

Shane, Lori, Dale, Jacqui, Glenn...most of the group seemed to huddle around to discuss the safety of the campsite whilst Amy wiped her swollen red eyes onto the shoulder of her elder sister who had begun to guide her slowly back to Dale's camper.

"Layla, you alright?" Dale asked quietly, his bucket hat barely shielding his face anymore as the hot Georgian sun scorched across them, his eyes were squinted but Layla could see the look of worry clearly etched onto his tired face. Layla nodded. She stayed quiet after that. She didn't want to talk.

"We need to be more prepared, especially if these things start making their way out of the city." Glenn commented as Layla walked towards the Lake where the group was huddled. The group wasn't too far, hearing distance; Layla could still listen, if she felt like.

"I say we set up more tin cans further down," Shane suggested, "We're faster than them...if we know they're comin' beforehand we can easily take 'em down."

Cleaning off the dead geek blood that stained her skin so brightly, the conversation still continued behind her.

Layla opened up the woven cord sack that the girls had collected mushrooms in, it reminded her of sacks her mom would use to bring home vegetables as a kid. She crouched to the clear clean water, taking out a handful of mushrooms and dipping them into the slowly lapping water pooling beside her bloody boots. The water washed over her mushroom filled hand, taking away the mud and debris. Her hands shook slightly as she let the water wash away the dirt, her knuckles still bloody and bruising.

The crunch of gravel seemed to get louder behind her. Daryl's muddy hiking boots plonking themselves next to her. He crouched to the lake not too far from Layla. She didn't dare look at him in fear she would cry. She didn't want to seem weak in front of him; not again. He looked at her however, sneaking sideways glances at her shaking form as he used a spare rag to wipe down the blood and brains clinging to his arrows.

"You're quiet," Daryl spoke first.

"And?" Layla asked, her voice breaking into a whisper.

"...It's weird." He replied.

And then Layla cracked a smile and a laugh, an honest one and one she felt like she hadn't felt for a while despite the tears leaving track marks across her muddy skin. Daryl didn't expect his comment to make her laugh but felt a little pang of achievement in his stomach when it did.

"You're right, but you being nice is even weirder."

"I'm not bein' nice." Daryl protested with a look of confusion on his face as he stood to which Layla rolled her eyes at, taking more mushrooms out the bag and given them a wash.

"Sure, it's almost like you never normally just wipe your bloody arrows on your jeans." She replied sarcastically, shaking off the excess water as Daryl shifted awkwardly, not even realised how utterly predictable he seemed to be to her.

"What, you been watchin' me or somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, totally, all the time, I'm your biggest fan, I might start start a fanclub with the rest of the girls, what do you think?"

"Ha ha," Daryl fake laughed, flicking a little water from the lake at her with a smile, "Shut up."

Layla felt like she had won an award seeing him smile and it embarrassed her. Her friend was just attacked by a dead reanimated person and she herself could have died but Daryl had just chuckled at her joke... _'It's the little things I suppose.'_

A coughing broke them out of their brief happiness, Lori stood just near them, a little smile on her own face. "We're gunna cook up some dinner, you guys comin'?"

"Sure." Layla replied, grabbing her freshly cleaned bag of mushys, shooting Daryl a glance and following Lori up the hill back to camp.

-

"This all you found?" Ed - Carol's husband - asked as Layla emptied out the bag of freshly washed fungi. Layla gave Lori a look of annoyance and Lori shook her head as if to warn her not to start; the tone and choice of his words seemed to sit too unkindly with her to keep quiet.

"I mean, considering it hasn't rained in over two weeks it's not really considered perfect mushroom growing habitat." Layla defended both her and Amy, annoyed that he could be so heartless, especially with Amy feeling so down about being attacked, "There's more than enough to go around."

He mumbled under his breath and Layla had to bite her lip. She was, despite the look of warning Shane, Daryl and even Meryl threw his way, taking a deep dislike to many of the men here on camp and, for the sake of Sophia, chose to sit this one out.

"Well, I haven't seen a mushroom in weeks," Jacqui said in delight, a comforting and supporting look on her face, "You girls did a good job." Her eyes alone told Layla that Jacqui wanted to tell the guy to fuck off.

"And these are all safe?" Glenn asked with a smile as Layla sat next to him.

"As safe as can be," Layla smiled at him, "Before my Mom got sick she would teach me all the different types when we would go out camping. My dad would show my brothers how to catch everything living; I was always too much of a wimp to kill anything cute and small."

"Did your mom..." Glenn asked, his words trailing off as the group seemed to go a little silent and give both him and Layla glances of concern.

"Turn?" Layla asked with a smile, her mother's sweet laugh filled her head and made her heart ache a little, "Nah. She passed before the outbreak. She had cancer. That's why I came out here actually; I fell into some not so heathy coping mechanisms and, well, it was weird being home when she wasn't there, y'know?"

"I'm sorry." Glenn said sadly.

"No, don't be." Layla smiled, "I know it sounds terrible to say but, I'm glad she wasn't around for this. She was far too sweet and this world was already so unkind to her."

"What was she like?" Carl asked sweetly, "Your mom?"

Layla gave Carl a sweet smile, "She was awesome. A nurse. She was sweet and funny. She used to hide candy under my pillow if my dad said I couldn't have any and she gave the best of hugs even when she was sick. She was really cool, like your mom."

"She's not cool." Carl said loudly, causing giggles around the campsite.

"Excuse me! I am very cool." Lori said grabbing him fondly and tickling his sides.

Layla, as well as the rest of the camp, watched their exchange happily. Layla noticed the look of adoration Shane watched them with.

As Jacqui and Carol helped cook what food the camp had, Glenn and Shane spoke about tomorrow's trip into the city.

"You're sure about takin' Merle?" Shane asked.

"He's muscle, annoying, but muscle all the same." Glenn said and T-Dogg sighed.

"You're not being serious?" T-Dogg refused.

"Well if Merle's going then I am too!" Andrea commented despite Amy's protests.

"And me," Jacqui said, "There isn't no harm in taking us too if that's the case."

Glenn argued about taking so many in his group for a while. "None of you know the city well; I can't take too many it would be too dangerous. I know we need more supplies but I can just do more than one run a day on my own. Bringing so many people just complicates things."

"I know the city well," Layla spoke up, "Other than Glenn I was the last one there, I know places around the outskirts that didn't get hit up too hard and how to get to them, I could help?"

"Layla is right, she would be useful, and if I'm going to take anyone I need to be smart about who. That's not an attack on anyone; I just have to be honest for everyone's safety." Glenn said amongst the now largely growing discussion.

"No, she's not goin'." Daryl said, coming to sit next to Shane.

"And when did you start to dictate what I do?" Layla asked annoyed.

"Ye got attacked in the woods earlier, are you dumb?" Daryl crossed his eyebrows.

"Y'know I'm getting pretty sick of you callin me dumb when I can look after myself."

"You keep sayin' that but me and my brother seem to save your DUMB ass every damn day!"

"Ay, come on now you two," Shane said, holding up his hands in attempt to fuse their spiralling argument before Layla could respond, "Layla, maybe just sit this one out for now? You are useful but we can't risk anything happening and loosing so many, you're useful to the camp, you can kill them, and we need people here as well as down there."

Layla sighed, "Fine... But only 'cause you asked nicely, not cause he's being an asshole." Layla stood up from her space next to Glenn, "I'm getting some water, anyone want anything?"

"Fill mine up?" Glenn asked, handing her his empty bottle with a smile.

"Comin' right up."

The water from the lake was already boiled and clean, stored in big clear plastic tubs on the back of Shane's truck, the kind you see people pour into tiny paper cups they drink in offices. Layla hopped onto the metal truck, her legs dangling off the back as she unscrewed the lid on Glenn's plastic bottle and filled it up carefully.

"You okay?" A voice asked quietly from the other side of the truck. Lori.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Layla smiled and Lori sighed, giving her that 'don't-lie-to-me-I-can-see-right-through-you' look she often gave to Carl and Shane.

Hopping up next to her Lori spoke again, "I'm glad you're here, Layla." Layla looked at Lori with a shocked but appreciated look in her eyes. "You help out, you clean, you cook, you hunt, you can fight, Carl loves you... you make people smile through all the messed up stuff happening. You make Daryl smile of all people..."

"You trying to flirt with me Lori?" Layla laughed.

"Oh shut up," She shoved lightly her with her shoulder fondly, "I just mean that you are important. Don't think you aint 'cause some people on this camp have a stick up their asses." Layla was silent after that, but not uncomfortably so.

The sun was beginning to set, beginning to hide behind trees and mountains of the Georgian sky line. The suns orange rays were turning to hues of pink and the pink was turning into hues of purple. If Layla could, she'd probably have snapped a picture and put it online, or attempted to paint it – and attempted would be the correct word as she would start many paintings and give up half way because she felt she wasn't good enough. She would do anything for a paint brush and pan of Newton & Windsor watercolours; anything for the world to be as serene and peaceful to spend her time painting the sky that lit up their camp every morning.

Layla rested her head on Lori's shoulder, the older woman giggled a little at the youngers quirky childlike behaviour. It was a thank you, albeit silent, but a thank you all the same.


	5. Man, Woman or Bunny

Blue plastic edges of an aspirator touched Layla's lips, her fingers pushing on the small metal canister, releasing the medical and metallic taste inside. She breathed in deeply, pushing curling strands of dark hair out her eyes. Her chest was tight today, but the inhalers helped keep any attacks or loss of breathe at bay. She sat with her legs crossed on the floor outside the camper picking away at the sticky white label on the side of the inhaler that held all the information about the medication.

Layla sighed. She had asked the group to look out for some inhalers on their travels today. Her stock wasn't running low, but if her asthma kept the way it was for her today it wouldn't be long until it was, and it wasn't as if she could pop to her local pharmacy for a repeat prescription. Hoarding was her best option.

"The heat probably won't help your chest," Dale called down to her as he watched the trucks make their final pull away from camp and out of eyesight. The group selected had just started their scavenging journey into the dead infested city.

"Unfortunately this camp doesn't come with air conditioning," Layla replied, feeling a little on the sadder side to be kept up in camp and annoyed at her failing attempts to manage her humid infected hair.

She had rationalised that it was for the best staying in camp, especially now that her asthma was playing up, but didn't want to give in to doing things others wanted of her. It reminded Layla of how her school teachers would call her stubborn, and she would purposefully stop doing tasks she had already set out to do if her Aunt asked her.

Layla got up, dusted the gravel off of her pants and sighed as she looked up at the sun.

"You bored?" Shane called out as he shoved freshly filled water tanks onto the back of his truck.

"A little," Layla smiled weakly.

"Ain't goin' the Lake?"

"She doesn't feel like getting involved today." Dale said from atop his van.

"It's not that!" Layla responded defensively, "I'm just... not in a very people mood."

"You okay?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow on his sweating forehead, pointing to the blue inhaler tightly gripped in her hand.

"I'll live." Layla responded, but in her mind she was thinking about how if she had an asthma attack she most likely wouldn't – how in a year or two, if she survived till then, she would definitely run out of medication and probably die from lack thereof.

"Why don't you help Daryl?" Shane suggested, seeing Daryl emerge from his tent, crossbow strung over his shoulder, clearly on his way out of camp to hunt.

"I'm goin' alone." Daryl said quickly upon hearing the conversation.

"We all shouldn't be going out of camp by ourselves," Shane replied, "Not after yesterday's attack – it would be good for both of you."

"You ain't a cop no more, you don't get to tell me what to do," Daryl refused a little more aggressively, giving Layla a side eye glance before repeating, "I don't need help. I'm goin' alone."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag this morning." Layla sighed, "Don't worry, I'm fine not accompanying you."

 _'Liar,'_ Her brain thought. She did feel a little hurt. She thought they had been getting along.

"Good." Daryl said with a tone similar to that of her Aunt's - it made her cringe. Patronising tones were something Layla would never like or get used to.

"Good." Layla mimicked Daryl's response, her arms crossed in annoyance, "I'll go pick berries instead, stay out the sun, thanks Shane."

Shane simply gave Layla a nod as she went off on her own into the woods.

"Don't go too far!" Dale shouted to her as her form disappeared into the overgrowing and unkempt shrubbery - Daryl's form not far behind hers.

Dale and Shane shared a look.

-

Layla hadn't gone too far, she was more careful on her own.

Before the world had fallen apart Layla was definitely neither introverted nor extroverted, more like, somewhere in the middle. She loved people but after a while just needed time to be alone; time to recharge, and after constantly surrounded by the group at camp she felt she could do with a little while alone out walking. Plus, listening to Amy worry endlessly about Andrea just didn't really seem to appeal.

The sounds of birds were gone now and it was eerily silent as she walked. In the days before she could close her eyes and imagine the world was normal, listen to the birds above her head and pretend she was at home in her garden planting tomatoes with her Mom. The birds weren't there anymore.

Apart from a few blackberries that lay hidden under huge dried up green dock leaves, there was not much to forage. It took Layla another little while and some fleeting memories of her brothers to appear before she set up her new task.

Tracking wasn't her thing, but she was smart enough to know that small animals tended to use the same routes throughout the forest and those small openings through trees, shrubs and seemingly tended to grass meant that a little critter was using that trail. Tossing her water bottle down and her small bag with blackberries to one side, she got to work on a trap her dad liked to call the 'Windlass'.

Taking her knife she found two sapling trees, strong enough to hold some weight but not too thick so it was easy enough for her to snap in two. She used her knife to dwindle the two thick wooden beams into spears and placed one either side of the small path she had found, pushing them deep into the ground. _"About 18 inches apart sunshine, no more,"_ Her brothers voice seemed to speak to her, _"Don't forget to give 'em a good whack so they stay in!"_ Her heart hurt a little at the thought.

Using another strong branch to act as a brace, she tightly squeezed it between the two beams, carving out and shaving bits of the branch to fit snuggly where needed. Next she took out her shoe lace and wrapped this around the two poles and when she was happy with her work she began placing in a heavier more baton like branch and setting the trap.

If it hadn't have been for the rushing sounds of leaves and snapping branches coming up from behind her, Layla's trap would have been complete. Knife in her strongest hand she whipped her body around, coming face to face with the end of a pulled back crossbow, her knife directed at the familiar man in front of her.

She dropped it quickly, letting out a sigh she didn't know she had been holding in.

"You just love pointin' that thing at me, huh?" Layla spoke first and when Daryl didn't respond she spoke again, "You gunna shoot me, or what?"

"I just might if ya don't shut your damn mouth." Daryl said, his bow still lifted to her.

"Well if you're gunna, can you hurry it up? I'm busy." Layla said and Daryl tutted, letting his crossbow lower from her head.

Layla rolled her eyes, turning back to tend to her trap. Once it was placed Layla was very aware that Daryl was watching her. To her, it felt like his eyes were burning holes into the back of her head and for some reason she didn't seem to mind, but didn't dare turn around.

"What's all this?" Daryl asked after a while of silence.

"A trap," Layla replied, "Thought you'd know that Mr. I'm-good-at-everything-and-don't-need-any-help."

"I don't need help." Daryl replied in his usual pissed off tone and Layla sighed, standing up to face him.

"Learn to take a joke, Hawkeye." She said, grabbing her bag and putting it over her shoulder, almost mirroring his movements as he slung his crossbow over his own shoulder. Layla felt confused by Daryl and his hot and cold attitude towards her and the rest of the camp. _'Maybe he's just not used to having friendly attention,'_ Layla thought.

Setting off down the path in which the small animals would run, Daryl continued to walk behind Layla.

"You following me now?" Layla stopped in her path and asked the man who was behind her.

"I'm trackin' squirrels," Daryl said, "Not my fault ya decided on walkin' this way."

"Yeah well..." Layla sighed and continued walking.

"Why you out here?" Daryl asked to Layla's surprise.

"Berries." Layla lied, her eyes facing her boots as they crunched on the ground below her.

"Bullshit." Daryl responded making Layla crack a smile, "You ain't a berry girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She laughed, "Fine...I just wanted to be on my own for a while I guess."

Daryl nodded in understanding. He wasn't exactly a 'people person' either, so he understood and secretly wondered if he should leave his hunt of squirrels to give her some space, "I get that."

"You okay about your brother being out there?" She asked.

Daryl nodded, "Merle's a tough bastard. He's good."

"You guys seem close." Layla said, attempting to make conversation that wouldn't turn to arguments.

"I guess. He sorta raised me... when he weren't locked up." Daryl responded, taking his crossbow into his hands.

Layla wanted to respond with a comment on how she wasn't surprised about Merle's past, but this was the first sliver of information either Dixon boy had given about their past and Layla didn't want to completely close up a person who seemed to find it hard to open up in the first place.

"What? No comment?" Daryl asked, expecting a snarky response but none came.

"I ain't always looking to fight you and Merle, y'know?"

"Sure about that?"

"No." Layla smiled. Daryl shook his head.

"You got brothers, right?" Daryl asked and Layla was even more surprised.

"Yeah. Two." She smiled, "Andrew and Vinnie. Vin was the one to show me how to set traps when I was younger."

"Ya think they're good?" Daryl asked a little awkwardly. Inside he was thinking about how losing Merle would affect him. He felt bad for Layla and how she was unaware of their fates.

"They're both tough too. I mean, Andrew's an idiot," She laughed, "But I think they'll be okay."

Layla began to tell Daryl all about the time when she and Andrew were kids and they had spent the day zipping each other into a blow up sleeping bag and sliding down the stairs in it. "Andy got stuck about half way down and the sleeping bag flipped over, he landed head first into the stair case. I found his two front teeth lodged in the skirting board. It was bad, of course, the kid didn't have teeth for my Aunts wedding, but also it was really funny."

The story seemed to make Daryl a little less tense looking; his dirtied shoulders however were still tensed under the weight of the crossbow he held. Daryl wouldn't lie to himself, he felt a little jealous of the happiness Layla seemed to ooze when talking about her childhood.

"Ya think you'll leave camp?" Daryl asked, lowering his voice as he took aim at a squirrel up high in one of the thick trees they weaved in and out of, "If there's a chance your brothers are alive?"

Layla shrugged, watching intently as Daryl pulled the metal trigger on his crossbow sending an arrow through the air expertly towards the small brown creature. Daryl didn't manage to miss how Layla closed her eyes in time to avoid seeing the arrow stab into the back of the squirrel. Its body immediately became lifeless and it fell from the tree to the floor below.

"I'd do anything for my family, but I think I'm too weak to go on alone." Layla said, a little quieter than she originally intended, so much so she thought Daryl might not have heard her.

"Nah, you ain't weak..." Daryl looked at her briefly and she looked at him. _'He was nice when he wanted to be,'_ She thought. Daryl couldn't understand why she would think she couldn't make it, but the more he thought about it the more he began to understand what fear could do to people. It was a scary world without people coming back to life and eating each other. Going at it alone could get you killed.

"Plus , I couldn't leave; you would miss me too much." Layla teased, attempting to shift the mood of the conversation and distract herself from the arrow Daryl currently was pulling from the carcass of the deceased squirrel.

"What did you do before all this?" Layla asked when Daryl didn't respond, hoping she hadn't made it too awkward.

"Why you askin?" Daryl replied, attaching another squirrel to his growing belt of animals.

"Well, that's how a conversation usually works Dixon."

Daryl often found himself not knowing what to say in response to Layla, he didn't tend to open up to anyone, let alone this stranger. It was not that he didn't like her, he just disliked the way in which he clammed up so often, his silence seemed so much louder when it was in response to her questions. For once he was relieved that their conversation was interrupted by a loud knocking noise from the direction in which they came from.

They shared a look and hurried off towards Layla's trap, leaves crunching under each step. The closer they got to the trap the more noise they seemed to hear... the more groans. It didn't come as a shock to either of them when they found a walker, kneeled beside Layla's unhinged trap with its teeth sunk satisfyingly into a rabbit.

The animals fur was matted, blood coating its sandy brown fur a deep velvet red. Noticing the arrival of more food the small animal was abandoned, the geeks rotten fleshy hands discarded it on the forest floor as it turned to face the duo instead. Its face was lifeless, they usually were, but the living dead woman didn't seem nearly as roughed up as some Layla had seen previously. This had happened recently. She noted the backpack still intact holding onto the woman's seemingly dislocated arm and the strands of blood soaked hair held at the back of her head with a yellow fabric scrunchy.

For a reason unbeknownst to herself Layla became upset. Layla didn't believe Daryl's earlier statement. Not now. Not earlier.

"You're wrong y'know," Layla said, eyes never leaving the groaning woman moving towards them both.

Daryl shot an arrow through her right eye. She fell to the floor with a thump.

"Wrong about what?" Daryl asked confused, completely unaffected by the scene in front of him, pulling the arrow back to himself.

Layla had let out a silent tear. Daryl had wanted to tell her not to be stupid, but in the grand scheme of things she wasn't being. Daryl had to remind himself that this world was tough, and even he had cried at times in the quiet of the night when Merle was outside getting high and he was sure nobody would hear.

"I'm too weak." She said, kicking over her trap easily, pocketing her bloody shoe lace strings and getting onto her hands and knees next to it. She began to dig her hands into the soil beneath her.

Daryl watched in silence as she dug a small hole with her hands. He wanted to tell her to get up and come back to camp but he didn't – he watched in silence until Layla's muddy hands had dug deep enough and she picked up the little rabbit, or what was left of it, and popped it into the hole.

"Nah," Daryl said, putting his crossbow over his shoulder, eventually understanding what she was doing, "You're just too nice..." Daryl watched as she covered the animal in its small gravelly grave beside her broken trap.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Layla responded when she was finished.

"God, woman. Even when you're sad you're still actin' stupid." Daryl said, but not in a way that sounded mean, more so affectionate – as much as it could be coming from him anyway. It didn't take everyone at camp long to realise that Layla dealt with pain through humour, and honestly, it was quiet refreshing for the bowman.

"I never liked when these traps would work," Layla said standing up and dusting off her muddy hands on her jeans, "I'd cry every time my brothers would set them when we'd go camping."

Daryl had successfully taken the backpack from the walker, "At least it's just a rabbit..."

She looked down at the lifeless woman, and back to the covered up rabbit grave. "Nothin' on this Earth deserves to die like _that._ Man, Women or Bunny."

He agreed, how could he not?

Daryl had found nothing inside the backpack other than a bottle of water and an unused scuffed brown leather bound notebook which Layla immediately claimed use of.

"What did you do?" Daryl asked as they walked back to camp together, "Before this..."

"I mean I did ask you first..." Layla said giving him a raised eyebrow and a smile, "I used to help out in my Mom's store. She had a little fresh food store in Jersey, grew all the stuff herself in our garden. I worked there with my brother. I sold my art and did other stuff on the side too like tutoring and babysitting. I worked in a bank too, for a little while, until my Mom got sick."

"You paint?" Layla was surprisingly a little nervous about the question. She thought Daryl would be the kind of person to think art was stupid. Daryl actually quite liked the idea.

"A little," Layla said as they finally came through the opening of their camp, "What did you do?"

"Nothin' much. Looked after my Dad, helped out Merle in whatever stuff he was into at the time..."

Layla nodded. _'That answer will do.'_ She thought. She didn't want to push into his past too much, just as she supposed he didn't want to push into hers. Thinking about the past, especially in the world they lived currently was painful. To think about her home, her little store in Jersey, her Mom...It felt like someone was reaching into her chest and poking her heart around with a hot iron prod.

Most of the group had congregated back at camp now and it didn't take long for Daryl to escape into the woods again, leaving behind his pile of squirrels.

The camp seemed on edge. The cars weren't back. Amy was pacing back and forth in the Dale's van. Biting her lip to keep her from looking too worried, Layla chose to give Amy some space and climbed the metal ladder at the back of Dale's camper, joining him in looking across the grounds.

"They should be back by now." Dale announced to Layla as he noticed her coming to sit with him. His tone was drenched in concern as he looked through his binoculars and out towards the city.

"Maybe they just got held up," Layla replied, sitting next to Dale's chair, "I'm sure they're okay. Glenn's smart, I know they'll be fine with him."

Layla didn't quite know what words to use to comfort people in this type of situation. She had heard once that having hope was dangerous in an apocolyptic world, but she thought that was stupid. Without hope, what would the point of going on be in this kind of world? She had hope now that she had found these people. Without being big headed, she thought that maybe she was here for a reason, with these particular people, in this particular spot surrounded by all those particular living dead cannibals. _'Unlikely,' _She interupted her own train of thought and held in a little laugh. But it was true that she had hope, and she wanted to stick around because of that.__

__"I suppose." Dale sighed, looking away from his binoculars and towards the younger girl next to him, "What's that?"_ _

__Layla pulled the notebook she had found from her backpack, as well as a pen she had long forgotten about that lay in the deepest parts of her bag between an old Walmart receipt she never threw away, and her half empty water bottle._ _

__"Daryl found it out in the woods so I bagsied. I got some berries too if ya want some?" Layla passed him her backpack, "What day is it?"_ _

__"Are you two back to actually getting along now?" Dale asked as he looked wearily into her bag._ _

__"Don't ruin it, Dale." Layla chuckeled a little and positioned herself so she was facing him, flicking to the first blank page in the notebook._ _

__He popped a berry into his bearded mouth and Layla began to scribble the shapes and lines of a bucket hat onto her newly acquired canvas._ _

__He gave her a little chuckle of his own as he watched, "It's Wednesday 23rd."_ _


	6. New Sheriff In Town

"I think that should do it," Jim said, wiping his sweaty forehead against his shirt sleeve, "I put some further out but I still think we need them closer to camp."

He had strung empty tin cans on string all around the hilltop camp. Layla was leaning against a large log near to where Jim was working away, scribbling the last little details of his sweating brow and focussed eyes.

"Layla?"

"Jim?" Layla smiled at him as she mirrored his voice fondly.

"You wouldn't mind tying the last one would you?" He asked holding up his empty tin cans, "Dale's asked me to help him out with fixin' the van and- Is that me?"

Layla had held up her new masterpiece to her subject of choice. He laughed and squinted his eyes, looking closely at the sketch of himself that Layla had been persistently doodling. "I gotta fix the eyes a little, and I think I got your cap a little wonky..."

"That's awesome." Jim laughed as he squatted next to her. In the corner of her page she jotted down, _'JIM IS A GOOD MAN.'_ "You're not just trying to distract me from asking you for a favour are you?"

Layla laughed closing her tiny notebook firmly and leaving it to one side of the log she was leaning on, "Gimme your cans, Dummy."

Jim gave her a smile, shook his head and made his way over to Dale's van.

Taking the empty cans and string, Layla wrapped an end around a tree a couple feet away from the Hilltop camps designated tenting area. She could hear the soft chuckles of Carl, Lori and Shane, the muffled complaints of Carol's husband and ... the radio fuzzing... T-Dog?

The radio on Dale's camper squawked loudly, _"Hello, base camp! Can anybody out there hear me? Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?"_

Dale took the radio quickly as the groups attention turned to the fuzzy voice it emitted. Layla hurried towards it.

"Hello? Hello? Reception's bad on this end." Dale started through the radio.

 _"We're in some deep shit. We're trapped in the department store."_ The radio rang out again. Layla's heart sunk, _"There are ... all over the .... Hundreds... surround..."_ Static broke up his words.

Then, the signal went dead.

"He said the department store." Lori said.

"I heard it too." Dale said and Layla nodded a confirmation that she had also heard it.

"Shane?" Lori asked, a hopeful glint in her eye that he would know what to do.

"No way. We do not go after them." Shane said firmly, "We do not risk the rest of the group. Y'all know that."

"I can go, I volunteered anyway. At least let me go and check it out?" Layla suggested.

"Absolutely not." Shane replied.

"So we're just gonna leave her there?" Amy replied, in reference to her sister Andrea.

After a brief dispute with Shane, Amy left the group with tears threatening to fall from her eyes just as rain seemed to threaten from above. Layla went after her, a crack of thunder echoing around them.

Amy was sat in Dale's van, her head in her hands.

"What I'd give for a twinkie right now..." Layla spoke awkwardly. She cursed herself for saying something so unimportant, "Sorry. That sounded insensitive."

Layla joined Amy on the camper couch.

"Yano, when I first met Andrea she looked at me like she didn't know whether to hit me or not. I don't think she even smiled at me until a week in." Layla said and Amy looked at her funny, "God I really suck at comforting people don't I?"

Amy let out a little giggle and wiped her falling tears onto the back of her hands, "You really do." Layla let out a laugh.

"What I'm trying to say is that Andrea was weary of me, she thinks first, acts later. She's smarter than people give her credit for. She's a tough cookie... She'll be okay." Layla didn't sound confident in her words and she wasn't. She didn't even really know Andrea that well, but she knew Amy, and she knew she was hurting; she told her what she wanted to hear.

Amy didn't respond. She just nodded.

They didn't speak after that, just listened to the rain start to crack out from the clouds above, pattering against the plastic windows and metal exterior of the van.

Layla was worried. She worried for Andrea and how Amy might be if she didn't come back. For Morales and how his children would cope. For T-Dog, Jacqui and sweet Glenn. Layla even felt a little sick with worry for Merle, despite their differences, and how Daryl would react if Merle didn't come back.

It was a few hours later that a loud beeping echoed across the barrens, eventually drawing the girls out. The rain has stopped. It was definitely not weather related noise. The sound seemed to bounce off of everything making it hard to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.

Dale was stood up, binoculars in hand. Shane had begun to shout up to Dale, as had Amy, her worried eyes looked across the deserted forest planes. The camp was in a rising panic especially since the radio call.

Layla went to join the group that was forming at the edge of the hillside that looked out onto the roads and the city.

"Is it them?" Amy asked, "Are they back?"

"I'll be damned." Dale said softly.

"What is it?" Amy asked again impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess." Dale informed.

The sound only began to get louder and very quickly a red vehicle appeared, driving around the road towards their camp bringing with it a noise loud enough to draw attention of the dead. The thought made Layla shiver. There were children here.

As the car pulled into camp Layla and the rest of the group managed to get a look who was inside. Glenn – and he looked rather cheery.

"Glenn you dumbass!" Layla shouted with a sigh, thankful to see him alive, but confused all the same.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouted too as Glenn left the vehicle. The alarm was still bellowing from the car.

"I don't know how!" Glenn said.

In that moment Layla felt a little overwhelmed by everything unfolding in front of her. Shane demanded Glenn pop the hood of the car whilst Amy and a couple others in the group bombarded him with questions. Layla held back to give him space and stood nearer Lori and Carl as they all watched Shane, Dale and Jim pull at some wires in Glenn's stolen car.

The alarms stopped but Layla could still hear ringing in her ears.

"Why isn't she with you?" Amy continued to question, "Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes! Yeah. Fine." Glenn said, holding his hands up in defeat, "Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much."

That certainly caught Layla's full attention.

"Are you crazy, driving this wailin' bastard up here?" Shane shouted at Glenn "Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?"

"What do you mean Merle not so much?" Layla asked, walking a little closer to the group discussion.

"I think we're okay." Dale responded, ignoring Layla's question.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane argued.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source." Shane sent Dale a glare. "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying," He turned to Glenn, "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Sorry." Glenn said, "Got a cool car."

Layla thought that was cute. A truck seemed to be approaching from behind them.

"What happened to Merle?" Layla asked again but Glenn seemed distracted by the scenes unfolding behind him.

The delivery truck stopped, its engines hushed and its doors slid open. Amy began to cry as her sister ran into her arms. They hugged tightly, the duos happiness radiating through the camp. Layla felt a little sad. She wanted that.

Morales appeared too, enveloping his children and wife in his arms as they cried cheerfully. Carl let out a little cry too. Layla turned to face him and Lori. She understood his pain. The scene before her had hit her hard, no wonder it had upset Carl. Seeing loved ones unite was beautiful but hurt so much more for those who had lost people. Lost everyone.

Layla distracted her spiralling thoughts by welcomed Jacqui with a strong hug. She sighed into her shoulder.

"Long day?" Layla asked as Jacqui hugged her back.

"Too long." She replied with a laugh.

"I thought we had lost you folks for sure." Dale commented as he welcomed Morales and T-Dog with hugs.

"How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane asked.

"New guy—he got us out." Glenn explained.

"New guy?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, crazy vato just got into town." Morales said hugging his daughter close to him but turning his head in the direction of the truck they had arrived in, "Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello."

The groups attention had turned to the new arrival. The man had hopped out of the van and walked towards the onlookers. He was dressed in a cop outfit, sweaty and a little pale looking. Layla thought he looked sad - unsure of his surroundings. She had felt like that too at one point.

"The guy's a cop, like you." Morales commented as he came closer. He was clean shaven, handsome and walked with a strong sort of swagger that reminded Layla of her eldest brother.

Shane and the new guy made eye contact - it was the first time Layla had ever saw Shane look scared.

"Oh my God." The man choked out and then Layla's body felt like it had been electrocuted because Carl was crying, running across the camp towards this man and calling out "Dad".

His father, Lori's husband! Carl collided with him into a hug that made Layla cry. They both fell to the ground in tears. The man picked up Carl, carried him to where Lori was stood in place, frozen. She just blinked, her eyes wide open in shock. Layla was wondering if Lori would ever move from that spot until she grabbed the man and pulled him into her. The three of them hugged tightly, crying.

The group watched in amazement. Everyone had so many questions but no one dared to speak, to interrupt such a raw beautiful display of love. A family once split up by the cruel reality of the new world - reunited. It was fate that the group had found him.

-

"What happened exactly?" Layla asked Glenn.

The two were sat at the edge of the camp overlooking the lake. Glenn sighed, passing Layla back her little tub of Vaseline she had let him borrow for his chapped lips earlier that day. She was busy scribbling him into her notebook.

"He was acting like ... Merle," Glenn said, "You know how Merle always acts. Shouting, shooting off his gun, attracting walkers from all over the place. The guy was like one big geek beacon. If Rick hadn't of handcuffed him up on that roof he would of killed one of us, for sure."

Layla sighed, "What a dick...I hope T-Dog is okay, he's only gunna blame himself."

"Yeah...you finished yet?" Glenn asked.

"Patience young one. Art takes time." Layla smirked and Glenn let out a laugh.

"You're an idiot."

"As are you." She replied, "Now keep still or you'll end up with a wonky nose."

"You ever wonder what your family are doing right now? Whether you'll ever meet them again?" Glenn asked after a moment of silence. She had never heard him talk about his family before. She stopped drawing and looked at him sadly.

"All the time." Layla replied with a sad smile that told Glenn she understood his pain.

It hadn't really hit Layla until this point that her and Glenn were both in the same boat. Both in a camp of complete strangers, away from any friends or family without ever knowing if they were dead or alive – or both. Seeing family reunite was of course going to affect those that didn't have any family left.

"Now, on a scale from one to ten, how likely is it that Picasso would be jealous of this?" Layla asked, showing Glenn the completed drawing of him.

"Nine. If it wasn't for the title being _'GLENN RHEE IS A DUMBASS'_ I would have given you a ten." Glenn shoved her with a laugh, "Come on, let's eat, I'm starving."

There was a group huddled around the campfire now, all eyes on the new guy. Rick Grimes. Crickets chirped around the group as Rick began to explain what had happened to him: how he had woken up in a hospital bed unaware of the world around him. Carl sat against his lap whilst Lori played with his hair and Layla just couldn't help taking a mental memory to draw this little moment in her newly acquired drawing diary.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it." Rick said and Layla's heart swelled.

"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things." Dale smiled.

Behind them, Ed put on another log onto his own fire. The light flared up brightly. Shane dealt with it quickly and Layla felt herself feeling sorry for Carol and Sophia. Ed was an ass.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked, "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-Dog replied.

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick protested.

"Guys, it's not a competition." Glenn took the words from Layla's mouth, "I don't mean to bring race into this, but, it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him." T-Dog responded.

"We could lie." Amy suggested.

"Or tell the truth." Andre replied, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She turned to Lori, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale said.

"Absolutely not!" Layla agreed.

"I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise—we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"You're all underestimating Daryl," Layla commented, "Yeah, he's bound to be mad anybody would, but he of all people knows how much of a dick Merle is. I think we should all tell him together - the truth, yes, but not so harsh - that way there's less chance of any specific person for him to blame or lash out on."

"I was scared and I ran." T-Dog commented, "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-Dog said, "My point—Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

T-Dog got up from the fire when he was done and left the rest of the group. Layla wanted to go after him, comfort him like she would anyone else but Glenn gave her a little shake of his head. "Let him be alone, just for now." Layla nodded.

"You think he'll be okay?" Layla asked.

"Will anyone?" Glenn asked.

Layla sighed. She was worried nobody would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry there is a little less daryl in this chapter, I just want to give my oc the opportunity to have a life outside her romantic interests!!


	7. She-Devil

Layla couldn't sleep that night. She had tried but every time her eyes seemed to close her mind drifted off into thoughts of bloodshed, death and decay. Her eyes were puffy that morning, bloodshot and red, her curled hair pulled back into a knot at the top of her head. She looked and felt like crap, still, Dale insisted on telling her she looked 'chipper' that morning as she helped Carol to wash clothes and cook breakfast.

"You're only saying that to make me feel better Dale." Layla smiled as she dunked a shirt into soapy water.

"Daryl's still not back?" Layla asked concerned as she scrubbed away at the stains with nothing but her hands. Carol was pressing some dried shirts and folding them into piles.

"Not that I've seen," She responded, "I'm sure we'd have heard something by now if he was."

"That's true." Layla said, scrubbing a little harder at the sweat soaked socks.

"You worried about him?" Carol asked.

"No." Layla said a little too quickly and Carol smiled knowingly.

"You sure are scrubbing them clothes hard. You sure?"

"Well...yeah. I guess I am...a little bit."

Carol gave her a little smirk but didn't ask her about it anymore.

"Here," Carol said handing her a pile of freshly pressed and clean shirts, "These are Dale's, you take 'em I'll finish this up."

Layla nodded and made her way towards the men.

"You wanna help with the car?" Jim asked as Layla made her way towards them, all at work stripping the car Glenn had brought back the previous night.

"Oh hell no! Glenn would have my head if I partook in any of this." Layla said, "He know your destroying his baby?"

"I do now!" Glenn said, pulling his cap over his messy black mop of hair. Layla passed Dale his clothes with a wordless nod.

"Look at 'em. Vultures." Glenn commented to Rick, the groups newest arrival, who had also awoke and approached the group, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean!"

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale responded.

Glenn sighed, a true look of hurt on his face, "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days."

"Maybe we'll get to steal another one someday." Rick replied and Layla smiled. _'He's cool.'_ She thought.

Rick gave her a smile back and went to find Lori.

"Any of you saw Daryl this morning?" Layla asked.

"He's still not back?" Glenn asked. Layla shook her head, "You think he's alright out there on his own?"

"Daryl's smart," Dale said, "He'll show up eventually. Don't you be worrying."

"Why does everyone keep saying I'm worried?" Layla asked with a sigh.

"Cause you are, stupid," Glenn said with a smile, nodding to Shane's truck that was pulling back into camp, "Shane's back, want some water?"

"I will!" Jim announced as he tore out some wires from the steering wheel.

Glenn sighed loudly as he watched. If it wasn't for the screaming coming from within the woods she would have followed him. Carl and Sophia's shouts for help were matched with Lori and Carol's shouts for their children. Everyone in the camp became alive with fear, grabbing the nearest thing they could and running down towards the screams. Layla hesitated at first, watching Glenn pass Rick a large metal pole and run into the shrubbery before she took out her knife and followed behind them, Amy and Andrea in tow. They were all terrified of what might be waiting for them beyond the trees.

The possibility of one of the children being harmed made Layla feel sick and a little dizzy. She had grown attached to these people, she cared for them and their families whether she wanted to or not. As they arrived Carl ran into Lori's arms, the same for Sophia and Carol.

"Nothing bit you? Nothing scratched you?" Lori said, grabbing hold of her son firmly and frantically as the rest of the group circled around the pair.

"No, I'm okay." Carl replied, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek as Lori checked him for any cuts.

Beyond the trees, a little outside of their camp, a Walker was crouched, sinking its rotting teeth into the carcass of a deer. The group surrounded it, watching as it ate hungrily at the raw animal flesh. An arrow stuck out from its hide.

"Is that..." Layla was about to question the familiar arrows when the Walker turned to them, its face covered in fresh red blood, its eyes barren of soul as they usually were. It saw them; fresh food. It didn't take long before the men in the group began to beat it with the objects they had acquired; Rick, Shane, Glenn, Jim, and Morales all beating it onto the ground.

Layla didn't see the point in intervening, she kept hold of her knife but lowered it to her side and watched from next to Andrea and Amy. Dale swung his axe high above his head and beheaded the walker, its bones cracking, its un-pumping blood squirting across its dismembered body. The thump of its head sent a shiver down Layla's spine. Shock was written across his face. Dale lowered his axe.

"It's the first one we've had up here," He says breathlessly amongst the silent group, "They never come this far up the mountain."

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what." Jim responds. He was right. They were running out of food in the city. _'Is this camp even safe anymore?'_ Layla thought.

Nobody else spoke as another branch snapped from behind them, footsteps followed. The group all held up their weapons once more, preparing for what may jump out at them. Daryl Dixon. He stepped out from behind the trees to the group holding weapons his way.

"Oh, Jesus." Dale states at the arrival of Daryl, the group lowering their weapons.

"Well this is gunna be great." Layla whispered sarcastically to Andrea and Amy.

Layla couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the sight of him, however. He was dishevelled and sweaty, his shirt sleeves ripped exposing his dirtied arms, tattoos lining his muscles. _'I need to get out of this camp'_ Layla thought to herself as she caught herself checking out the redneck.

"Son of a bitch. That's my deer!" Daryl said as he saw the body of his kill and the body of the walker.

"Look at it," He said making his way towards the animal, "All gnawed on by this... filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" With every word he sent a harsh kick to the carcass.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale said.

"What do you know about it, old man?" Daryl responded aggressively, "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond"?"

"Hey don't speak to him like that!" Layla shouted at him. _'If he wasn't an asshole to Dale I would of actually thought that was a funny joke'_ Layla thought.

"Don't you two start!" Shane shouted before Daryl could get a word in. They shared a look like they both wanted to kill one another.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison." Daryl said, taking his arrows from the deer and crouching to the animal, "What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

"I would not risk that." Shane replied.

Daryl sighed, "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel... about a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

The movement and gnashing of teeth from the decapitated head startled the group, Amy couldn't take anymore and Layla didn't blame her.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl says, taking his weapon and shooting an arrow into the skull of the dead. He put his boot on its skull, pulling at the arrow sticking out of its head, the sounds of its brains loud enough to make Layla decide she didn't want any lunch, "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?"

The group all silently watch as Daryl wanders back to camp, they eye him and share glances or worry and uncertainty.

"You okay?" Layla asks Dale as they leave the trees behind and come back to camp.

"I will be... if this goes down okay." Dale sighs as the group watch Daryl shout for his older brother.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says.

"About what?"

"About Merle. There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl looks around the camp as people start to watch, he quietens his voice, "He dead?"

"We're not sure." Shane responds.

Daryl looks confused and Layla can already see his anger bubbling away inside him. She stays close to Dale. "He either is or he ain't!"

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." Rick starts, taking the lead.

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl mocks, raising his voice.

"This ain't good..." Layla whispers to herself.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick explains, "He's still there."

"Hold on. Let me process this," Daryl responds, "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof... and you left him there?!"

"Yeah." Rick says quietly.

Daryl sighs, pacing slightly and throws his sling of squirrels towards Rick. He runs for him, attempting to attack him, but Shane tackles him hard into the ground. The sound of T-Dog dropping the pile of firewood was not loud enough to drown out the ripping of Daryls knife against his side.

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog shouts, coming to Shane and Rick's aid. Daryl swings his knife out towards Rick, but Rick dodges it.

"Dixon stop for God sake!" Layla shouts as the man continues to try to attack the men around him. Layla notices how eerily quiet the camp seemed to sound despite the scene taking place in front of everyone. Daryl lunges with his knife for Rick again and Rick grabs at his arm twisting it and allowing Shane to come up behind him, wrap his arms around Daryl's neck, chocking him to the ground.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl protested, attempting to wriggle from Shane's grip, Rick now in possession of Daryl's weapon.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane responded.

"Choke holdin's illegal." Daryl said.

"You can file a complaint." Shane said. Layla couldn't help but chuckle at that. Dale shot her a look and she bit her lip and mouthed a "What?" at him.

"Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day." Shane said as Daryl continued to try to get out of his grip.

Rick crouched down to Daryl, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Daryl didn't respond and so he asked again, "Do you think we can manage that?"

Shane let him go, throwing him to the floor breathlessly.

"What I did was not on a whim." Rick started, "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

Daryl was breathing heavily but Layla could see he was listening. He knew better than anyone what Merle was like, telling him like this was NOT a good idea.

"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog said, "I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl asked.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog said, slightly embarrassed. Daryl just scoffed, shaking his head, standing up and looking to the ground.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl replied.

"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog started, "Look, I chained the door to the roof... So the geeks couldn't get at him... With a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something." Rick said honestly.

"Hell with all y'all!" Daryl said, his voice breaking slightly, "Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."

Layla watched sadly. This was the first time she has really saw either of the Dixon's show an emotion other than anger, the first time she had saw just how much they both meant to each other. As much as she had enjoyed watching Daryl get put in his place, she couldn't have said she would react any different if she'd have been told her brother was trapped on a roof somewhere in Atlanta with thousands of the dead trying to get at him.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori interjected into the conversation.

Rick was silent, looking awkwardly amongst the group. "I'm going back." Rick announced. Lori stepped back into the RV; Layla understood why. Her husband had just got back and now here he is wanted to risk his life once more.

Daryl had walked off on his own, leaving the group to mutter amongst themselves.

Layla felt bad for Daryl. She knew he felt like an outsider in camp, everyone treated him and Merle that way, and now he was alone. He was angry and sad and alone and as much as Layla tried to tell herself she wasn't worried, she found herself boiling some water and adding coffee into a cup wondering whether Daryl was the sweet and milk or black coffee type.

He was cleaning his arrows by the Lake when Layla found him.

"Ya come to rub it in, huh?" Daryl spat without looking up.

"What is it with you thinkin' I'm tryna be mean to you all the time?" Layla asked, "I'm only mean if you deserve it."

"Whatever..."

"I just came to see if you were alright?"

"What do you think? My brothers handcuffed to a roof!" Daryl said.

"True, that was a dumb question...I wanted to just say-"

"Look, I don't got time to be dealin' with your she-devil bipolar bullshit right now, okay?" Daryl shouted dropping his arrows to his side. Layla bit her tongue. That hurt her. _'Be nice, he's hurtin'_

"I brought you coffee, Dummy," Layla sighed, "I don't know if you like it or not but...I don't know I just thought you might want somethin' to take the edge off, y'know?"

"I don't need no damn coffee woman!" Daryl shouted, "Just leave me alone!"

She sighed. "You know what Daryl, I don't have to talk to you," She was calm with her words though her mind was racing with anger, "I don't have to go out of my way to say good morning to you or offer you coffee or come check on you when you're upset but I do. I did. I did because I think you're a good man underneath all that shit Merle talked into you-"

"I don't need this right now, just leave me the Hell alone!"

"Fine! I will." Layla shouted back, pouring the coffee on the ground next to her, the bits of hot water splashing up off of the ground like dirty raindrops, "But word of advice? Maybe you ought to stop bein' such an asshole when you speak to the only person who really sees you as a part of this camp!"

Layla stormed back up to camp on her own. Daryl pretended not to care as he cleaned his arrows, but his eyes kept flicked up to where she stomped up the Hill. The coffee she had spilt on the ground now dry under the hot Georgian sun.


	8. Fleeting

"Don't die idiot." Layla said as she squeezed Glenn into a hug.

"I'll try not to." Glenn smiled, leaving her embrace to strap on his backpack and run to the van that he, Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl were about to leave in on their rescue mission.

The group waved them off, the truck kicking up a pile of dust into the air and making Layla cough and reach for her inhaler.

"You okay?" Andrea asked as the group separated and got on with their daily tasks around camp.

"I'll be good," Layla smiled, "You need some help washing' up?"

"The more the merrier."

-

Carl's laughs echoed across the lake as Shane splashed about in the shallow pools of water, kicking up dirt and shells and discarded litter from the times before.

"I'm beginning to question the division of labor here." Jacqui sighed.

The sun was hot and the women had all been scrubbing at clothing in the lake for a long while now, attempting to get every stain and smell soaked out the fibres with nothing but salty water and blocks of soap.

"Can someone explain to me how the women wound up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?" Jacqui asked, fed up as she watched Shane play with Carl.

"The world ended. Didn't you get the memo?" Amy responded and Layla laughed although she couldn't help feeling like the statement was slightly unfair to some men, and she meant only some, in their group who risked their lives to go out hunting for food and supplies for camp.

"It's just the way it is." Carol said sadly.

Layla and the rest of the group were well aware of Ed, Carol's husband, watching them from his car, lazily leaning against it like a prison warden overseeing his working prisoners. He was chain-smoking and had this look on his face like he owned the place.

"I do miss my Maytag." Carol spoke, a look of desire on her face as she remembered more comfortable times.

Andrea sighed, "I miss my Benz, my sat nav."

"I miss my coffeemaker with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey." Jacqui joined in and Amy shot Layla a look of 'Here she goes again'.

"My computer... And texting." Amy joined too.

Layla didn't join in. She couldn't, because the only thing she could think to say was that she missed her Mom and that surely would ruin the mood.

"I miss my vibrator." Andrea said. The group of women burst into laughter, all sharing their shock and hilarity with one another. The group only continued to laugh harder when Carol, who's husband still stood watching over them, whispered, "Me too."

Their laughs only stopped when Ed shouted over, "What's so funny?"

"Just swapping war stories, Ed." Andrea sighed.

"Yeah." Amy agreed.

Ed came up closer to the group then, seemingly threatening them albeit silently.

"Problem, Ed?" Andrea asked, Layla was starting to like Andrea's outspoken attitude.

"Nothin' that concerns you." Ed responded, turning his attention to Carol, "And you ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club."

Layla let out a shocked laugh, shaking her head at the absurdity of Ed's response. Carol avoided the women's eyes, but they all knew what was going on. They quietened down and went back to scrubbing, Layla not taking her hate filled eyes off of Ed.

Andrea was the first to get fed up of his stares.

"Ed, tell you what..." She started, "You don't like how your laundry is done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here." Andrea threw a damp shirt at him. Ed didn't hesitate. He grabbed at it and threw it right back in her face harshly, puffing on his cigarette still.

"What the hell!" Layla shouted.

Amy and Layla stood up now, backing Andrea. "Ain't my job, missy."

"What is your job, Ed?" Andrea got into his face, "Sitting on your ass smoking cigarettes?"

"Well, it sure as hell ain't listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch. Tell you what..." Ed shouted, turning his attention to Carol once more, "Come on. Let's go."

"I don't think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed."

"And I say it's none of your business! Come on now. You heard me." Carol began to get up to leave, despite the protests from the rest of the women.

"Hey, don't think I won't knock you on your ass just 'cause you're some college-educated cooze, All right?" He threatened Andrea who laughed in shock, "Now you come on now or you gonna regret it later." He still pursued Carol who went to him unwillingly.

"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed? Yeah, we've seen them." Jacqui spoke up.

"Don't you have any shame Ed?" Layla crossed her arms, he just laughed at the group in front of him.

"Stay out of this. Now come on!" Ed continued on at Carol, "You know what? This ain't none of y'all's business. You don't want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done talking. Come on."

Ed grabbed at Carol's arm harshly, enough to leave bruises from merely the grab alone but the women knew that it wouldn't just be them alone when they next saw her, and so, they protested. They grabbed for Carol themselves, and she become upset, shaking her head and leaning away from Ed, the fear visible on her face.

"You don't tell me what! I tell you what!" Ed raised his voice, bringing down his hand and slapping Carol across the face.

Layla felt like everything became a blur after that. The sound of Ed's rough hand against Carol's cheek echoed across the Lake, the connection instantly animating the image of her Uncle raising his hand to her at the dinner table in her head. The women had jumped him immediatly. Layla punched at his face. Hard. As hard as she possibly could.

They protected Carol as she cried out in pain and shock and embarrassment. But Ed, being the huge man that he is, seemingly over powered the women in front of him.

All the shouts and screams and cries and protests alerted Shane - and it didn't take all that long or all that much effort for him to walk over, grab Ed and throw him onto the ground. Shane punched him again and again and again. Over and over until Ed's face was bruised and bleeding and swollen.

Carol cried even harder then and Layla just watched as Shane beat him half to death. The women screamed for him to stop but Layla didn't. She watched Shane beat Ed up. She watched Shane beat her Uncle up in her head and she didn't feel guilty one bit. Not even when her knuckles got a little red and sore afterwards, or when Carol tried to avoid the rest of the camp, or when she heard Sophia crying when she saw her dad's swollen face. She didn't feel guilty. And she wished Shane had punched Ed just one more time because if anyone in this camp deserved it, it was him.

-

The day was long. Longer than usual, what, with all the fighting, Jim catching heat stroke and digging holes, Andrea fussing over Amy's impending birthday and the group worrying for their missing members... the day seemed to go on forever.

Fish was on the menu tonight. A fry up and a half. Layla felt like her tastebuds had never been gifted as much as they had that night as they sat around the fire, passing one another fish and fresh water and smiling and laughing like the world hadn't gone to shit and they were just one big family out on a family camping excursion.

"I've got to ask you, man. It's been driving me crazy." Morales asked Dale as they began to finish up their meals.

"What?" Dale asked.

"That watch." Morales started and Layla had already began to laugh.

"What's wrong with my watch?"

"I see you every day, the same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass."

"I've wondered this myself." Jacqui said, "Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. At least hit a speed bump for a good long while."

"But there's you every day winding that stupid watch." Morales laughed, as did the group surrounding them.

"Time... it's important to keep track, isn't it?" Dale explained, "The days at least. Don't you think, Andrea? Back me up here."

"I like... I like what, um, a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment now and then and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.'"

The group was silent, until Amy said, "You are so weird." Everyone laughed.

"It's not me. It's Faulkner. William Faulkner. Maybe my bad paraphrasing." Dale explained further.

"Where are you going?" Andrea asked Amy as she got up from her seat around the campfire.

"I have to pee. Jeez," Amy sighed, "You try to be discreet around here..." This caused the camp to laugh once more.

"I get you Dale, I kinda like knowing where we are in the year..." Layla said as she chewed on more fish.

"Hold on," Shane laughs, "You can't say anythin' miss 'I don't need shoes, my feet gotta breathe'." The group laughed at this too and Layla laughed along with them.

"They do man, my toes need air!"

"You're both weird." Carl announced, and that was the last straw because no-one had expected him of all people to get involved. Everyone laughed. The type of laughs you normally do when a kid says something unexpected and cute and quirky.

And then all too quickly it stopped. Because Amy had let out a deafeningly familiar scream and the world seemed to blur for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Layla felt her breathing stop as she watched a walker chew on Amy's arm. Screams erupted from camp, people were running, crying, walkers were groaning and closing in from all around them.

Layla instinctively shoved Sophia, who wasn't too far away from where Layla now stood, behind her. She didn't remember getting up or taking out her knife but somewhere in the haze she had to have done. Shane had grabbed a shot gun, called out orders and began to shoot at the walkers invading the camp and pillaging its people. Their people.

Layla drove her knife into the skull of a walker as it approached closer to the group. She would have found the way its blood dripped onto her cold skin repulsive if she hadn't become so used to it, or hadn't been focussed on the baseball bat that Jim was currently using to bash in the skull of another of the dead. As much as Layla stabbed, Jim hit, Shane and Dale shot it seemed like people were screaming from all over the place.

The walker that had bitten Amy continued to eat at her neck, pulling out her muscles and arteries. Layla didn't think she had ever seen so much blood, or heard someone cry as desperately as she heard Andrea wale. Jim was the one to kill the walker that decided Amy's fate. And only then did it hit Layla what that fate meant and she started to cry too.

She stood there watching as the people who had taken her in and showed her kindness were attacked one by one and she could not help them. She couldn't even move.

If it hadn't been for Shane shouting, "Come on, make your way to the Winnebago!" She thought she would have been stuck there forever. She was glad he shouted that because she was thinking about how Daryl had asked her if she 'wanted to live' yet and right now she wished she had chosen not to.

Layla was about to take Sophia and Carol and make a run for the RV when Rick, T-Dog, Daryl, and Glenn arrived. Rick shot five of the Walkers, Daryl four, Glenn two, T-Dog two also. And then there was only silence and bodies and blood and the smell or gunpowder.

Andrea screamed for her sister, laying by her side. It was the most painful thing Layla had felt like she had ever seen, watching her sister die in her arms. Amy touched her cheek and then her life slipped away from her eyes and Andrea sobbed. Carl sobbed too. And Layla didn't know she was sobbing until Dale grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I remember my dream now," Jim swallowed, watching sadly as Andrea clung to the lifeless body of her sister, "Why I dug the holes."

The camp was destroyed.

Bodies littered the grounds, some faces Layla knew and some she did not...but she felt sad for all of them. And she felt sad for Daryl too because he hadn't come back with his brother. And she missed her brother too. And she really wanted to tell him she hated him for taking her off that bridge but she stayed quiet because nobody knew what to say other than cry.

In that moment, Layla felt her existence was fleeting.


	9. Hot and Cold

Nobody could sleep the night of the attacks. Nobody.

Layla sat overlooking the quarry, her knees up to her face with her arms wrapped tightly around them. She clung to the grey fleece jumper that Dale had given her tightly, but the quiet sobs that came from Andrea as she cried over Amy's body made her feel colder than ever. She could hear Sophia crying over her Dad, Ed, too.

She jumped when a white and seemingly heavy plastic bag dropped down next to her. Daryl stood awkwardly next to it.

"What do you want?" Layla asked, wiping away at her wet eyes. She was getting sick of crying around Daryl all the time.

"Couldn't sleep."

Daryl sat down next to her when she didn't respond. He passed her the bag without a word.

"What is this?" Layla asked curiously, confused by his shift in attitude.

He sighed, "Saw a guy have an asthma attack today...Scared the hell outta me."

Layla opened the bag. It had boxes upon boxes of inhalers in, all sealed and full. Layla smiled at Daryl; a thank you without words.

"Are you okay?" Layla asked genuinely after a few moments of silence, "And I know it's a stupid question but I wouldn't ask it if I didn't really want to know how you're feeling."

"He's alive...Merle." Daryl said, "He's good so... I'm dealin' with it."

Layla nodded.

"Are you?" Daryl asked.

"Am I what?"

"Okay?"

"No." Layla said sadly, "No, I'm not."

Daryl nodded. He already knew that but he wanted to take her advice. He knew these people where the ones he had to rely on now, not Merle, and he wanted them to see him as one of them. Realistically, he wanted her to see him as one of them. He wanted her to like him, and he felt guilty after his outburst at her.

"Thanks Dixon." Layla said, standing up from her seat next to him, "You still owe me a coffee though."

"Whatever." Daryl said grumpily but Layla just smiled. She knew he didn't mean to be mean. Neither did she. And she'd take a passive 'Whatever' over a 'She-Devil' any day.

Daryl watched her walk off towards Andrea and Amy, bag of inhalers in hand. She took off her fleece and crouched down next to Andrea, wrapping the fleece around her cold shoulders and planting a comforting kiss to her head.

-

The sun was hot on Layla's face. Her back and legs ached.

"Layla," Glenn shook her softly, "Layla, wake up."

Layla opened her eyes slightly but covered her face once the light of the sun burned them. She was leaning against the RV, back straight and legs out, covered with only a slightly worn tartan blanket. She had mud and dusk in her hair and under her nails. She felt like she had had less hard-hitting hangovers.

"Wake up!" Daryl shouted loudly, "Got work to do."

"Shut up Idiot." Layla yawned and stretched dramatically. _'Cute,'_ Daryl thought. He normally would have laughed seeing her all dishevelled and sleepy calling him an idiot but considering he was dragging bodies and burning them in a pile he didn't really feel like smiling.

"Did you sleep out here all night?" Glenn asked passing her a coffee as Layla put her messy curls into a top bun out of her face and off of her neck. She spotted Andrea, still latched onto Amy's body.

"I wanted to make sure Andrea was okay." Layla sighed, sipping at her coffee, "She spoken to anyone?" Glenn shook his head sadly, still crouched next to Layla. Layla sighed. _'Today is going to be long.'_

"C'mon Curls." Glenn stood, holding out his hand for her to take which she gladly did.

Daryl watched. And then he got mad. He couldn't pinpoint why – or he could but didn't want to admit it to himself – but when Layla smiled at Glenn or took his hand or thanked him for coffee Daryl felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. _'Not cute.'_

-

The camp of survivors, the ones left after the attack, had started to clean up what they could. Glenn, T-Dog, Morales, Jim, Jacqui, Shane, Layla and Daryl all heaved bodies into piles, some alight and some not. Layla was stabbing each of the skulls of the dead, making sure they were, y'know, actually dead.

Her skin was covered in spattered blood, ash in her hair, and she had her face wrapped partially in an old plaid shirt in an attempt to stop any diseases making their way into her already weak lungs. She was sweaty and tired and sad and worried about Andrea.

She has almost gotten used to stabbing skulls when Daryl's axe came flying over her shoulder, smashing into the head of a walker below her.

"What the hell, Dixon?" Layla shouted from behind her make-shift mask.

"Woops." Daryl shrugged sarcastically. She would have been mad at him if she hadn't been so distracted by his bare dirty arms holding tightly onto the axe he was wielding.

She tried to go back to her task but Daryl continued to hit into the dead right next to her. The sounds of his axe cutting the air and landing in the dead made her wince. She kept her eyes on him, not realising how obvious she was being about checking him out.

"Do you mind looking at what you're doing?" Layla sighed.

"Maybe ye should take your own advice."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe ye should keep your judgy eyes off'a me and focus on your work!"

 _'Judgy eyes?'_ Layla thought humouresly.

"Are you blind?" Layla said standing up after he threw his axe against another of the dead near her, brushing off his previous comment as she had had enough of him being passive aggressive, "Look where you're going before you throw that around, you coulda took my head off!"

"Maybe that's where I was aimin'."

"Why are you acting like an ass?" Layla asked with a sigh, pulling off her mask.

"I aint actin' like-"

The sight of Andrea holding a gun to Rick's face made Layla zone out of what Daryl had begun to say. Daryl was distracted too as a group congregated to talk about Andrea.

"What's going on?" Layla jogged towards the group.

"Andrea," Rick explained, "We need to figure out what to do with her."

"I think she just needs time with her sister," Dale said and most of the group agreed.

"Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us?" Daryl said, "The dead girl's a time bomb."

"Her name was Amy, Daryl." Layla shot him a look.

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked Daryl.

"Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here." Daryl said, "Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No. For God's sakes, let her be." Lori protested. Lori was right but Layla knew, in a less insensitive way that Daryl was right too. They couldn't just let Amy stay the way she was. It would endanger the whole camp to do so: she was already gone.

"Have you tried talkin' to her?" Lori asked Layla.

"A lot," Layla nodded, "I don't want to be overbearing and try again. I think she just needs some space."

And the group agreed. They would give her space but watch her closely.

Layla continued to help repair the camp, this time away from Daryl.

"You two fallen out again?" Glenn asked as they dropped a body onto a pile and he noticed Layla's eyes make their was over to Daryl and Morales, "I thought you were friends now?" Glenn laughed.

"Barely. More like acquaintances if anything." Layla sighed, "He just can't seem to give up thinkin' I'm judging him."

"What? You're like the only person here who actually tries to make conversation with him."

"That's what I thought!" Layla agreed, taking hold of the next body they began to move, "Dude's just so hot and cold with me."

"Maybe he lik- What are you guys doing?" Glenn shouted interrupting himself, distracted by Daryl and Morales, "This is for geeks. Our people go over there."

Daryl and Morales were carrying a body to a pile.

"What's the difference? They're all infected." Daryl asked.

"Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them." Glenn said, "Understand? Our people go in that row over there."

Daryl and Morales dragged the body back toward the separate group of deceased but failed to do so without Daryl commenting, "You reap what you sow."

"You know what? Shut up, man." Morales told him off.

"Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming." Daryl said.

"Daryl!" Layla shouted, "They didn't deserve to die!"

He tutted and mumbled a, "Whatever." Daryl and Layla both stared each other down, both angry and upset. Even Glenn felt uncomfortable – like one of them was about to burst and go psycho.

"A walker got him." Jacqui shouted, pulling the two once more away from an impending argument, "A walker bit Jim!"

Layla felt her heart sink into her stomach. She hurried over to were Jim stood, praying it wasn't true.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim insisted.

"Show it to us. Show it to us." Daryl demanded.

"Easy, Jim." Shane tried to calm him down, fear and panic written all over Jim's face. Shane's relaxed approach was soiled when Daryl shouted "Grab him." Jim took a dirtied old metal shovel from off the floor but was quickly apprehended by T-Dog and Daryl. Jim's blood was seeping through his shirt and as Daryl lifted it and Jim wept, Layla let out a quiet little yelp. A deep tooth marked wound marked Jim's fate.

Layla immediately ran to Jim's side, shoving Daryl and T-Dog away from him. He was pale and sweaty and clearly in shock. She wrapped his arm around her neck and walked him over to the RV.

"Sit down Jim, come on." She whispered, tears filling her eyes, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"For that exact reason." He nodded breathlessly to the group congregating to discuss what was to be done with him.

Layla was upset; she had grown quite close to Jim whilst at camp. She related to him, they were both sort of lone wolves amongst the group at times and she found comfort in knowing, as bad as it is to say, that he had lost everyone too. She didn't feel so alone or misunderstood with Jim around.

"You think they'll do away with me?" Jim asked as Layla helped Jim sip from her water bottle.

Layla looked at Jim, "They so much as try and I'll do away with them all."

"You're a good kid Layla," Jim said, "You survive this thing okay? Don't go gettin' bit, don't go gettin' hurt."

Layla teared up at that, "Oh Jim," She gave him a squeeze, "Don't go talking like that on me."

Their conversation and embrace didn't last all too long or all too happily as Daryl ran toward Jim with his pickaxe up, trying his best to take a swing. Layla stood in front of Jim, blocking Daryl's view from the man behind her. Rick cocked his gun and pointed it at Daryl. Layla didn't know whether it was Rick's gun pressed against the back of his head or her blocking him that made him stop.

"We don't kill the living." Rick said.

"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head," Daryl responded.

Daryl dropped the pickaxe after a brief talk from Rick and Shane. He stormed off on his own and Rick took Jim with him for safety.

Layla was annoyed. She couldn't believe Daryl was willing to just murder Jim on the spot. She angrily followed Daryl to his place beside the burning bodies. The smell was atrocious, the view was putrid and Layla felt like gagging the closer she got to Daryl.

"Where are you going?" Lori asked.

"To give him a piece of my mind." Layla stormed past everyone.

"That might not be a good idea..." Dale commented.

"Let her." Glenn said, "This will be good."

"Are you serious?" Layla shouted and Daryl sighed, preparing himself for the wrath of the angry Italian woman.

"Are you?" Daryl shouted back.

"You were willing to just murder Jim on the spot? What is wrong with you?"

"The hell is wrong with you woman? I coulda took your damn head off back there! You willin' to die for someone who's only gunna die soon anyway and put this whole camp at risk?"

"I would rather die knowin' Jim would still be breathin' an I wouldn't be remembered as someone who just stood by and watched you murder an innocent man!"

"It's called survival!"

"You can survive without being a dick to everybody!"

"You won't ever make it in this world if ye keep with that mind set."

"And you won't make it in this world with yours!"

"Okay okay! That is enough!" Lori intervened, scolding them both as she would do Carl, "You both need to calm down."

"I'm calm." Layla seethed through clenched teeth.

"Sure you are," Lori nodded, putting her hands around her shoulders, "Now, why don't you come help get Jim settled, huh?"

Jim had already deteriorated. He was lying in Dale's RV on the sofa that Amy used to sleep on. He was sweating, his pale face white like snow but veins dark and hot. The infection was spreading. Carol, Jacqui and Layla all took it in turns to watch over him; talk to him, help him drink and eat, cool his fever and distract him from hallucinations. And then a gunshot echoed across the Quarry and Andrea's sobs got a little louder.

Amy's body was buried on top of the Quarry's hillside in a grave alongside the other deceased members of camp. Layla didn't speak throughout the funeral. She didn't speak that night when the camp sat around a fire and ate the last bits of beans that were rationed out. She didn't speak when she handed Andrea a tiny portrait of Amy she had drew in the days before her death, not even when she kissed Jim's forehead before she drifted off to sleep or when Dale asked if she was okay when she woke up screaming.

She didn't speak because, what was the point in words that would just be forgotten?


	10. Under a Tree Towards The CDC

"Layla! You comin' or you just gunna stand there?" Glenn shouted over towards the girl, looking fondly across the Quarry where she had found her new family and lost them all over again.

"I'm coming', jeez!" Layla replied, making her way into the RV.

The group had decided that the Quarry was not safe anymore. They had heard the CDC was working on the cure and considering Jim's condition, he might be able to get some kind of help there. Dale drove his RV out of camp, Glenn beside him whilst Layla and Jacqui sat in the back caring for Jim. Layla watched as the red sports car they left behind faded into the distance. She could still see the hill where Amy was buried for a while longer.

Rick drove a car up ahead with Lori by his side, Carl, Sophia and Carol on the backseat, followed by Shane's car, T-Dog's car with Andrea, and Daryl's car with a motorcycle hooked on the back.

"You think Morales will be okay?" Layla asked, swatting away some sweat that had accumulated on her forehead.

Jacqui patted Jim with a cold wet cloth, "Course honey. He's a smart man, they'll be okay." She sounded confident, but Layla couldn't help but feel they were stronger in numbers, and with half the camp gone, she certainly didn't feel hopeful.

They had barely started along the highway when a shot rang out and Dale made a sound that Layla could only associate with him burning his food over the campfire or him putting his bare foot in wet mud. The RV came to a holt in the road.

Layla left Jim's side and walked up to the front of the RV to Glenn.

"The RV's radiator hose burst," Glenn explained.

Layla nodded like she understood and then asked, "...What's a radiator hose?"

"Something we need or we ain't moving any further." Dale explained as he got out the driving seat with a sigh, fixed his hat onto his head a little tighter and began to exit the vehicle.

Layla sighed, grabbing a fresh bottle of water for Jim and returning to her seat next to him.

"Here Jim, try sipping this, you need to keep your hydration up." Layla smiled and unscrewed the bottle cap.

Jim nodded in agreement, "Wherever I float to you better not follow me Layla, the boats goin' soon but you can't come. You gotta stay, with Rick and Daryl and Carol. You-You all watch so no one else gets in."

Layla teared up, her voice quiet amongst the clanging of tools and chatter outside of the RV, "Of course Jimbo. Of course. I'll make sure of it."

Jim looked at Layla with the softest of smiles, his face pale and sweaty and eyes red. He let out an enormous wale of pain, the agony etched into the lines in his forehead as he squeezed his eyes together. Nothing they did seemed to ease the pain or slow the rapid decrease in Jim's strength.

Jacqui got to her feet quickly and Layla could hear her call to the group briefly before coming back to Jim's side.

Layla let Jim hold her hand tightly, squeezing it in both comfort and support.

"Hey Jim," Rick said delicately as he came into the open door of the RV, light from the hot sun outside pouring in onto the dirty old carpeted floors of Dale's van. "We'll be back on the road soon."

"Oh no. Christ... My bones... My bones are like glass. Every little bump..." Jim struggled, "God, this ride is killing me. Leave me here. I'm done. Just leave me. I want to be with my family."

Layla gulped a little, "Jim..."

"I know. I know." He smiled softly at her.

"They're all dead." Rick replied, "I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever... You've been delirious more often than not."

"I know. Don't you think I know?" Jim groaned, "I'm clear now. In five minutes I may not be. Rick, I know what I'm asking. I want this. Leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision. Not your failure."

Rick nodded, "One moment Jim..." He left the van and Layla knew he'd be discussing Jim's decision on the other side with the group.

"Jim you can't." Layla choked a little.

"Hey. Don't you go gettin' soft on me." Jim coughed a sore laugh, "This is my choice okay? I won't make it much further...I can feel it...this-this disease, this infection, what ever it is...I can feel it ripping me apart on the inside. I can't let you all watch me anymore..."

Layla was biting her lip hard enough to taste the iron tang of blood as she listened to Jim. She only nodded in response and stayed quiet as Shane and Rick carried Jim from the soft pillows of the RV to a tree just off the side of the highway.

The group followed Jim, a silence hung around them and made Layla sick. Jacqui held her hand. 

"Hey, another damn tree." Jim chuckled lightly when his head hit his new resting place in the heat of the sun.

"Hey, Jim..." Shane started, "I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this."

"No. It's good." Jim protested, swallowing hard and struggling to speak, "The breeze feels nice."

"Okay. All right." Shane stood and Jacqui drew closer to the man who was dying right in front of them.

"Just close your eyes, sweetie." Jacqui said delicately, tears dripping down her face, "Don't fight."

Jacqui placed a kiss on his cheek and left to take her somber shelter in the RV. Layla hated this; this world that forced her to make connections with people and then forced her to watch those people die. When Dale spoke to Jim and thanked him for fighting for them Layla couldn't help but let out a shaky breath and try her best to compose herself.

She crouched beside the man, taking his sweaty hand in hers.

"No more of them tears on me." Jim smiled.

"Stop it Dummy..." She laughed with tears still spilling over her cheeks. "You're a good man Jim." Layla spoke quietly, gulping and trying her best to hold in her shaky sobs, "A good man." She kissed his forehead and turned away from him. Daryl watched her walk down the hill, struggle to get back into the RV where Jacqui sat and cried.

Daryl nodded to the man, a silent squashing of any animosity with an accompanied farewell. The group departed not long after, continuing their travel to the CDC with another body left behind.

Layla flicked to the beginning page of her sketchbook and traced her finger delicately along the scribbled lines of Jim's hat. Her eyes left the page and looked across from where she sat on the sofa of Dale's RV to Jim's green cap, lit up by the summer sun beaming through the plastic RV windows.

-

The CDC was overrun with corpses. The stench was indescribable, making hairs stand up on end and taste buds rise and tickle the back of your throat in a very bad way. Fly's buzzed around them aggressively as the group quietly made their way from their vehicles and towards the building they had been so eager to seek out.

Layla felt a little sick at the sight of rotting flesh in every direction, and a little sick at the fact the place looked entirely void of life. _'This doesn't look promising'_ She thought to herself, waiting for the armed to take the lead.

The group, under instruction from Shane and leading from Rick, made their way towards the building, avoiding the corpses and keeping close together. Daryl stayed towards the back and close to Layla, noticing the paleness suddenly arriving in her complexion at the sight of the compound.

"Y'okay?" Daryl whispered to her, crossbow up and eyes scanning the place for any walkers.

Layla simply nodded, not really concentrating much on interacting with the Dixon man considering their current predicament, nor questioning his turn in behaviour.

Bodies littered the floor like gum would on a normal sidewalk and the group moved quickly throughout them, the flies getting in noses and ears and causing the group to cough and gag more than they had expected from the journey. When the shuttered doors were in sight the group knocked desperately for any sign of life inside.

"There's nobody here." T-Dog gave up quickly.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick replied.

"Walkers!" Daryl's voice seemed to echo across the deserted concrete as a walker approached them. Panic had now set in, and even though Daryl sent an arrow through the walkers head people were scared. Carl and Sophia began to cry, Lori began to panic and everyone began bickering.

Layla felt like she was having an out of body experience. As if the scene unfolding if front of her wasn't really happening. This was there last option...their last hope. It was over. Everyone screaming and shouting at one another, kicking the shutters, crying; it was like everything was moving in slow motion. Everything was happening without Layla and she just stood in shock, her mind not in her body.

She felt as if she blacked out and when she had awoken she was being dragged unsteadily by her shoulder away from the compound, Dale's arm's shaking her gently but with urgency as walkers began to close in on them.

And then came the light that drowned out the pit of darkness Layla had slowly been falling into. The shutters of the CDC squeaked open.


	11. Tequila

Rattling and clanging, the CDC doors opened and everyone ushered in; Layla feeling her head spin like she'd taken too many shots of tequila. The familiar sour taste of liquor was not on her tongue however, and as she tried to focus her visuals seemed to merge together in a spiral of grey hues.

"Anybody infected?" A voice spoke from within the compound. Layla tried her best to focus on where the sound was coming from. It was coming from higher off the ground than they were but when she looked up her head felt heavy.

Rick began to talk to the man who had appeared in front of them, gun in hand mirroring the group.

"Why are you here?" The man questioned, "What do you want?"

"A chance." Rick begged, hesitation clear.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." Layla thought that their voices sounded as though they were speaking underwater, or as if she was trapped in a box with thick walls and they were talking outside.

"You okay Layla?" Dale whispered to her as Rick continued to speak to the man seemingly in charge of the place, his eyes noticing her change in complexion and her shift in posture, "You aren't lookin' so bright."

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." The stranger spoke, lowering his weapon and opening his building to allow the group safety and shelter.

Layla hadn't even realised she was stumbling and almost falling to the floor until she felt the touch of Daryl's arms grabbing her around her waist and propped her up with her arm around his neck.

"Oh God, is she okay?" Jacqui hurried to Layla's side in worry.

"Get her some water." Daryl called out, not really to anyone specific as the group hurried to bring in their belongings.

Jacqui hurried, unscrewing a bottle of water for Layla, "Here baby, try to sip this."

"What happened?" Rick asked seriously, "Something get her?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head, "Idiots just run down."

"You suck." Layla whispered, trying her hardest to stop slumping against the redneck.

"When did you last eat?" Dale asked worried. Layla only shrugged as the group followed the man to a wide metal modern elevator that he had originally stepped out of. Daryl kept his arm around Layla and helped her walk.

"She hurt?" The man, who had introduced himself as Dr Jenner, spoke as they hurried into the lift. Thankfully, the dimly lit lights were easy on Layla's impending migraine. Her vision was off and she couldn't move legs without her knees and ankles buckling under her weight. As they walked Layla's feet dragged behind her and for a moment Layla thought Daryl might either throw her over his shoulder or leave her on the floor.

"She's exhausted," Jacqui tucked a stray curl behind Layla's ear, "The girl doesn't sleep and hasn't eaten properly in days. She's runnin' on empty."

"She's been through a lot..." Dale sighed sadly, "She needs rest. We all do."

"Will Layla be okay?" Carl asked aloud as he looked at the older girl, drained and unable to stand on her own.

"For a girl who ain't ate in days she sure weighs a lot." Daryl commented as he still gripped her tightly to stop her from falling.

"You callin' me fat Dixon?" Layla laughed tiredly, "I'll kick your ass."

"Yeah," Rick smiled, somehow reassuring the entire group as he spoke to his son, "She'll be just fine."

The elevator moved slowly and everyone felt increasingly more awkward and nervous.

"Doctors always go around packin' heat like that?" Daryl nodded to Dr Jenner's gun.

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." He explained, "But you look harmless enough. Except you," He pointed to Carl, who smiled innocently, "I'll have to keep my eye on you."

"Thanks for carryin' me Dummy." Layla whispered as the elevator hummed and shook slightly as it continued it's decent.

"Did I have a choice?" Daryl whispered back, his voice deep and low.

"Yes."

"Even when you're passin' out ya can't shut up, can you?" Daryl grumbled but Layla only smirked. Daryl didn't have to help her, especially not as quickly as he had done; there were plenty able bodied people around and even leaning on Jacqui would have probably done the job.

The room they came out into was large and round and the lights made Layla wince as the migraine filled the upper left section of her head. She closed her eyes as Jenner explained about the lack of humanity inhabiting the CDC. Daryl watched her close her eyes, watched the curvatures of her face and how she winced a little as pain struck her head. He tensed upon suddenly realising just how close they were.

-

"You won't faint if I stick a needle in you now, will you?" Dr Jenner asked as Layla sat in front of him.

She had drunk since their arrival and felt a little better. Carol had mentioned that she might have been having what was called a 'dissociative episode' which is the minds response to stressful and traumatic situations or memories. It made sense, but Layla didn't want to go giving herself more things to stress and worry over and decided it was down to dehydration and her currently incurable insomnia.

"I ain't promising anythin' Doc." She smiled, looking away from her arm as the sting of a needle penetrated her skin.

She looked around the room, anywhere but her arm. Her eyes fell on Daryl who stared at her. Layla couldn't place a finger on the type of look he gave her, but the look made her stomach feel funny. She sighed and looked away, staring up at the large ceilings of the CDC.

"Scared of needles?" Jenner asked with a smile, distracting Layla from her thoughts about Daryl as he drew blood from her. The group stood, watched and waited for their turn donating samples.

"Nah, I got some tattoos..." Layla responded, "Just don't like watchin'."

"Well, I'm scared," Sophia whispered to Carol as she looked on at Layla.

"Hey kiddo, it's okay to be scared." Layla smiled at the younger girl, "Look, its already over..." the needle was gone and the blood was resting in a little plastic testing tube, a small cotton wool ball now being pressed over the area it had come from, "It only stings a little, right Doc?"

Jenner smiled from Layla to Sophia who was holding Carol's hand and squeezing her soft toy close to her. "Right." He said.

"I'm here, you'll be okay." Carol encouraged Sophia, "I'll go first, okay?"

"And then when you're done, I saw Doctor Jenner had some cute bear bandaids. I just bet he'd give you one for being so brave." Sophia smiled a little at Layla, who stood uneasily, still a little dizzy. Carol nodded - a silent thank you.

"No more faintin' missy," Dale whispered to Layla, linking his arm with hers protectively as the group continued to get their blood samples taken. He walked her slowly towards a seat.

"How you holdin up?" Dale asked with a soft look on his ageing face.

Layla just smiled. She couldn't seem to find the right words.

"You know," Dale said sitting next to her with a sigh, exhaust etched onto his face, "You aren't in this alone..."

"I know."

"You got to look after yourself. If you need help, you ask for it." Dale told her sternly, "No pretending you're okay if you're not."

Layla sighed.

"I don't want to over step boundaries here, but I care about you. And if those doors didn't open and you couldn't run-couldn't walk..."

"Jenner's callin for dinner, and a lot of it too," Shane interrupted, "you need to get some food in you girl, come on."

Layla was glad because her stomach rumbled uncontrollably and made a sickly feeling travel up towards her chest.

"Sure..." She stood, turning for a moment back to Dale.

"Thanks Dale." Layla said, "I know it's 'cause you care."

-

Plates lined the two red dinner tables that the group had pushed together. They were in a dimly lit kitchen area, cupboards clean and full of food; meats, vegetables, breads, salad. Layla felt like she had just walked into her dining room at home - it smelt so heavenly. She could almost feel her homes old antique rug under her feet. She sat between Jenner and Dale, stuffing table spoons of pasta and sauce into her mouth, hardly chewing it before she shovelled in another mouthful.

"I think you all better take some pasta before human waste bin over there inhales it all." Glenn called from over by his place on top of a counter, laughing as the group watched Layla's cheeks fill up with pasta.

"Why's everyone indirectly callin' me fat today!" Layla laughed, flipping Glenn off. Daryl eyed her across from his place at the table and watched how her cheeks turned pink when everyone laughed.

"You sure know how to eat." Rick laughed.

"Not to stereotype, but that will be the Italian." Dale laughed and making Layla giggle.

"Oh yeah," Layla agreed, "In Italy when you have a family dinner it's like a sport. This is light work."

"How so?" Andrea asked as she chewed on some fries.

"Well, you start with your appetisers, like olives, nuts, that sort of stuff. Then you get your antipasti, then your main course which is normally hot stuff like pasta, then your second course which is like meat and seafood and stuff which comes with your sides of vegetables and then your desert...and then if you had a Grandma like I did another desert." Layla explained, "You have to have like an hour rest in-between to even make enough room for all the food it's ridiculous."

The group laughed a little, each fondly thinking back to their own family traditions, meals, parties and celebrations.

"Dale, could you pass the wine please?" Andrea asked, fiddling with her empty wine glass.

"Pass it here," Dale stood, holding out his hand for her glass and politely asking, "Anyone else need a top up?"

"How gentlemanly." Layla teased, pushing her glass forward a little to Dale, as the group continued to talk and laugh amongst themselves.

"Are you even allowed to drink?" T-Dog joked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think to grab my ID on the way to the end of the world." Layla hit back and the group laughed.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale commented as he passed Lori her refreshed wine glass, "It's true, isn't it Layla?"

Layla sipped at her wine, the alcohol going down easy at the back of her throat and simultaneously managing to make her mouth dry, her lips already showing signs of staining red. She nodded trying to hold back a laugh at the excitement that arose on Carl's face, her lips pursed together to stop any wine spilling out from her cheeks.

"And in France." Dale continued.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori said.

"What's it gonna hurt? Come on." Rick smiled cheekily at his wife, still eating his own dinner, "Come on."

The group continued to laugh watching as Dale poured a little wine out for Carl into a plastic pint glass, and handed it over to the boy. Watching eagerly, the group quietened in anticipation of the young boy's reaction.

Carl barely touched his lips to the liquid before his face contorted and he let out a loud, "Eww." The adults smiled and laughed, admiring the innocence that they had all held once and outgrown with age.

"Why don't you stick to soda pop there bud." Shane said fondly.

"Not you Glenn," Daryl commented, seemingly also joking about Glenn's age as he made his way around the table to pour himself another glass.

"What?" Glenn asked confused, his own bottle nearly empty.

"Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get." Daryl joked, the group's laughs echoed loudly once more and Layla snorted, feeling wine come out her nose which only made the group continue to laugh even harder. Daryl felt a little bit of pride sore through him when he got laughs as it wasn't something he found particularly easy. But the alcohol was spurring him on, and the mood was at an all-time high for the group upon finding their new home. A safe home.

The Clinking of a metal fork on a wine glass quietened the laughter however. Rick stood from his seat, raising his glass, "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly."

"He is more than just our host." T-Dog commented, raising his own glass as the rest of the group followed. They cheered simultaneously, thanking and 'hear hear'ing together as Jenner sat and awkwardly accepted the appraisals.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane asked when the celebrations died down, "All the... the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened. Where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane. Don't need to do this now." Rick tried to deter.

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move..." Shane disagreed, and continued to ask, "Supposed to find all the answers. Instead we..." He laughed with a certain undermining sarkyness that Layla didn't like, "We found him. One man, why?"

"Well," Jenner started, "When things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asked.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door." Jenner explained, "They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

Layla suddenly felt tense and she swallowed a lump in her throat in an attempt to not show her emotions. That could have been her. That easily could have been what she had decided to do. She had once thought opting out was the only option. She knew now she was wrong. This group she was with... they found a way to live against the odds over and over again, and she wanted to live too.

"You didn't leave. Why?" Andrea asked.

"I just kept working, hoping to do some good." Jenner explained. And Layla really felt sorry for him. Everything he has been through, everything he has had to witness, all those he has had to lose and he was still here... all alone, trying to do anything he could to help everyone else.

"Dude," Glenn said sadly, directly his words as Shane, "You're such a buzzkill, man."

Layla let out a breathy laugh and stood from the table, collecting her plate and some other empty ones from around her, taking them to the sink and preparing to clean up.

Lori followed suit and helped Layla clean up a little.

"You okay?" Lori asked as Layla pilled the dirtied dishes into the spotlessly silver kitchen sink and turned on the tap, still surprised and happy at the use of running water.

"Better," Layla smiled, splashing a little soap into the sink, "If I can manage to get some sleep tonight I think I'll feel the best I have in weeks."

"Well, speaking of sleeping," Lori said, popping empty wine glasses into the sink too, "Jenner said he's gunna show us the living area... beds and all."

"You mean I might not be sleeping on a floor tonight?" Layla asked, ignoring the piece of food that touched her fingers in the water. At home, she would refuse to wash dishes without rubber gloves for that very reason, the feel of wet food made her skin crawl. Now she thought the feeling of wet food was comforting compared to the feeling of blood and guts and the smells of the dead walking.

"I do mean that indeed." Lori laughed.

-

Jenner led them through white-walled corridors, dimly lit and layed with carpet. The group followed, bags of belongings on their backs, and listened as Jenner explained.

"Most of the facility is powered down including housing so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power. The same applies – if you shower; go easy on the hot water."

"Hot water?" Glenn asked.

"That's what the man said!" T-Dog said excitedly, hurrying into a room down the hall. The rest of the group seemed to follow, breaking off into rooms.

Layla chose the room closest to the main hall and elevator. It seemed like the least lonely if she'd be staying by herself. It was small, and dark, but it had a cot with clean white linen and a small shower room with a working toilet. Tiny plastic bottles of shampoos and conditioners lined the tiled bathroom walls.

The first thing she did, as did everyone else, was hop in the shower.

Water fell down her body, warming, cleaning and soothing all the roughed, cut and dirtied skin. She picked at the dirt under her nails and scrubbed at her curled and knotted hair, trying to use as little of the shampoo as possible. The aroma of peaches from the scented fragrance of the shampoo made her a little dizzy but not in the way she had previously experienced.

"Oh my god!" Layla laughed as she scrubbed herself from head to toe, watching as the colour of the soap got darker and her skin lighter the more she scrubbed. The dirt circled her feet, swirling around, leaving her behind as it escaped down the drain. She stopped laughing when the water turned a tinge of deep red, dried blood nestled its way behind her ears and elbows. She thought about who that blood had belonged to. Her? The dead man who had attacked her in the woods? Amy? Jim?

She shut off the water, and if she hadn't been a little tipsy from the wine, she thought she would have had a little cry.

The feeling of having clean clothes, even just joggers and a shirt, on clean skin was something Layla never thought she would take for granted. But she had. She had taken so many things for granted in her life; the feel of her pillows, the smell of her deodorant, the tiny nics she would get on her ankles from shaving, the way her skin stuck to her clothes if she moisterised, the feeling of cold feet in fluffy bed socks. Every tiny little thing she never thought twice about seemed to bring her the upmost pleasure and joy.

But the bliss she felt when her wet head hit her pillow was too good to last as sounds of heaving came from across the hall. She peaked out of her door, wondering where the sound was coming from. Andrea's room was the answer. She could here Dale inside attempting to comfort her.

"Someone had a little too much wine?" Carol asked as she walked past, Sophia and Carl in tow.

"Somehow I don't think the sickness is from the wine." Layla sighed.

She waited outside the door for a moment, pondering on whether she should check on Andrea too, but by the sound of Dale's sigh as he left her room and the little sad shake of his head, she didn't want anyone there to comfort her.

Tea. Layla wanted tea. She made her way to the kitchen, feeling euphoric at the idea she could now just make herself a cup whenever she felt like whilst contained in the walls of her new home. Making her way past a drunk and seemingly agitated Shane, she arrived at the already lit kitchen, muffled voices from behind the door.

She creaked it open slowly and peeped in quietly.

Glenn, T-Dog, Rick, Jacqui and Daryl sat around the red table they had finished dinner at, drinking happily and talking amongst themselves.

"Layla!" Glenn called drunkenly, raising his glass to her as she awkwardly made her way towards them.

"Ay!" T-Dog shouted enthusiastically.

"Hi," Layla laughed as she entered the kitchen, the coldness of the tiles seeping through the fibres in her socks and making her toes feel icy, "What are you all still doing up?"

"Sharing war stories," Rick smiled, "Care to join?"

"I mean I was gunna make tea and read a book," Layla laughed.

"You got the rest of your life to read 'The Shining' LayLay." T-Dog persuaded. Layla caught Daryl's eye, unsure whether her presence would affect him in anyway. He was sitting on the back of his chair with his legs out on the seat in front of him, staring down at his drink, sneakily glancing at her every now and then.

"He won't bite," Glenn rolled his eyes as he watched Layla nervously look over to the Redneck, "Will you Daryl?"

"I aint no damn dog Glenn," Daryl said with an amused look on his face. Glenn only made a drunken 'ooo'ing sound in response. Layla thought that without the influence of alcohol the exchange may not have been so well taken.

"I won't bite either." Layla said, more to Daryl than anyone else.

"I doubt that." Glenn laughed.

"Shut up man." T-Dog laughed.

"Come on honey," Jacqui said rolling her eyes at the drunken men, and pulling out a chair next to her, "Sit."

"You want a drink?" Rick asked her as she joined them.

"Of what?" Layla asked.

"A long island iced tea," Daryl said sarcastically, "What do you think?"

Layla shook her head and laughed lightly, "I said I won't bite so... I won't."

"Vodka, wine or beer?" Rick asked.

"Vodka."

"Didn't take you as a Vodka girl." Jacqui laughed as Rick got her a glass.

"I'm not." Layla laughed, "I like tequila."

"That's even worse." T-Dog said with a smile and she laughed heartily. 

"So Layla," Rick smiled, handing Layla her glass, "I don't think I ever heard how you met the group."

Rick felt the awkwardness in the air rise at the question, but Layla didn't care all too much because the vodka was going down a treat and paired with the glasses of wine she had earlier she felt like an open book.

"Dummy here found me," Layla nodded to Daryl, "My aunt turned, uncle went mad, got lost in the woods," She began, speaking nonchalantly, "When I found the Quarry I was kinda in a bad place. Didn't think I had any choice but to...um... 'opt out' as Jenner called it... Dixon found me," Layla explained.

Rick listened intently and the group of tipsy survivors was silent.

"I ain't dumb." Daryl said after a moment of silence making the group feel a little less awkward and bring about the laughter again.

"You don't want to opt out no more?" Glenn asked, a look of previously unseen hurt on his face.

"Not anymore." Layla smiled at him, reassuring him she didn't want to die. In that moment she thought of Jim, and how he had made her promise to live. She knew she wanted to live for herself, and knew she had to live for herself over anyone, but couldn't help feeling as though she had to keep her word to Jim; a little bit of her would be living for him, for Amy too.

The group continued to drink, laugh and share their past with one another. And eventually they each dwindled out. First Rick, then T-Dog, then Jacqui, and, after some coaxing and being force fed some bread and water, Glenn, who was in a drunken state of bliss and soon to be illness.

And so there were two.


	12. Behind Closed Doors

Steam rumbled up through the spout of the kettle and nestled into drops onto the counter above it. Images of her condensation filled windows on a winter morning flitted through her head and she could almost hear her Mom's dehumidifying machine shake and rattle as it attempted to control it.

Two sugars and milk. That's how she and her Mom used to have it. A lot of Americans drank it cold but with her mother growing up in the UK cold tea was never a normal sight in their household. Two sugars and milk was how she was having it.

"Want one?" Layla asked as she spooned a sugar into her tea and reached for another mug in the cupboard above her. She could feel his eyes on her from behind.

"Sure." Daryl nodded quietly, knowing he didn't actually like tea all that much but wanted to entertain the younger woman. He swigged the last of his drink as he leaned against one of the kitchen counters and watched her make a third cup of tea.

"Can you count or are you super drunk?" Daryl asked, noticing the extra cup.

"For Andrea," Layla said shooting him a look of amusement more so than of anger.

"You really think this place will last?" Daryl asked, the question coming as a shock to Layla. She passed him his mug of hot tea carefully, the bewilderment of the question apparent on her face.

"Why would it not?" Layla asked sipping at her tea before placing it on the counter, "You think something will happen?"

"I don't know," Daryl sighed, "It ain't important."

"It is," Layla said making her way over to the table they were previously sat at, "Your concerns are important Dixon."

Daryl bit the edge of his finger nervously as he watched her clear the table of beer bottles and wipe it clean of any spilt alcohol. He hadn't realised straight away what that comment meant to him, but it made him feel included, recognised...visible. Like he was an important member of this group.

"You gunna just stand there and stare or you gunna help me?" Layla said with a smirk.

Daryl coughed awkwardly and walked to the table to help pick up some bottles, feeling a little paranoid at the fact he was caught staring. Twice. He wondered if she had spotted his stares at other times too.

"Swear, you got eyes in the back of your head." Daryl mumbled and Layla laughed.

"I must be turning into my Mom," Layla smiled, giving out a loud yawn.

The cleaning didn't take long and was done mainly in silence and when Layla was about to head to Andrea with her hot tea Daryl felt a little sad to watch her leave.

"I'm gunna see if I can sleep," Layla said awkwardly, smiling at the man and going to make her way away from the kitchen.

"I got some temazepam," Daryl said, "Picked 'em up in Atlanta, if you want any?"

"Sleeping tablets?" Layla asked curiously.

"Got a bunch of stuff out of Merle's stash too...painkillers and stuff."

"Sure," Layla smiled, "Why not?"

-

She followed Daryl down the corridor towards his room, passing doors full of familiar snores, whispers, muffled cries and Glenn's painful wretching. Layla attempted to keep her laughs in upon hearing the latter, and would have held her hands to her mouth if she hadn't been carrying mugs of tea.

Noticing Daryl's own smirk as they passed his room Layla whispered with a laugh, "That is so your fault."

His room was a lot further down the corridor than Layla's. Daryl practically shoved the door open, placed his own mug down and began to riffle through backpacks and bags that were thrown messily on the floor. Layla felt a little awkward, stood in her night clothes at the foot of Daryl's door, not daring to step inside as she watched him search through his and Merle's things.

"Here." He said after a while of routing, standing from his crouching position and joining Layla at his door. It was dark, and Daryl had to squint his eyes to read the tiny writing on the back of the box, "I think asthmatic's can take 'em, but they're strong so just take one."

Layla was a little surprised he'd actually thought of the safety of them for her. Checking medication was something she foolishly never did.

"Thank you," Layla smiled genuinely, awkwardly taking hold of a silver sheet of tablets between her ring and pinky finger as not to drop the hot mugs she still held. She stood there for a second not knowing how to properly form a sentence.

 _'Why can I not talk?'_ Layla thought briefly.

Daryl shrugged liked he'd read her mind, breaking their silence by giving her a, "Go sleep, idiot."

He watched her laugh awkwardly at the floor like she always did when he managed to make her laugh. He watched her walk down the hall, her hair long and still a little damp in places but the dried curls bounced as she disappeared behind Andrea's door.

-

She knocked gently. The woman inside was awake; she could hear her crying from down the hall.

"Andrea?" Layla whispered, "It's Layla."

Andrea didn't answer, but her cries got quieter.

"I'm going to come in okay?" Layla warned her, hoping she wasn't stepping on Andrea's toes by coming to see her.

Andrea gave her a 'Mhmm' noise.

"Hey." Layla whispered, coming over to the cot which Andrea lay on, attempting to muffle her cries. Andrea thought maybe she had woken Layla from crying.

She walked closer to the cot and sat down lightly on the edge. Andrea was turned away from her, knees as close to her chest as she could get them.

"I brought you tea, settles the stomach." Layla said as she placed the hot mug on the desk next to Andrea's cot.

Andrea stayed quiet.

"I won't tell you it's gunna be okay, or that everything will get better, because I don't think anyone knows what the future will bring right now. But I can tell you without any doubt that you aren't alone in this. You don't have to deal with this by yourself if you don't want to...and if you do, then that's okay too. But we care about you, so-so just let us know you're okay on your own for a while, 'cause we worry."

Andrea still didn't talk but Layla heard her let out a shaky breath and gave Andrea a comforting pat on the lower arm.

"I'm across the hall if you need anything," She whispered, getting up from her seat and walking to the door, whispering a quick, "Goodnight Andrea," before closing the door gently to avoid making more noise.

Her own cot felt blissful under her head. Warm tea had calmed her enough to make her sleepy and the single tiny sleeping pill Daryl had given her assured her that tonight her rest would be fully restored and nightmares would cease to exist.

Tossing and turning was not unusual for Daryl, but that night being sleepless seemed to agitate him more than usual. He blamed Layla, although the alcohol certainly didn't help. Confused. That's the only word he could put to it. He was confused.

All night he lay there wondering why they were friends one minute and the next they weren't. He was confused as to why he didn't like the way Shane checked her out when she wasn't looking, or when she often laughed at things Glenn would say. He even spent some parts of the night wondering if the medication he given her would trigger an asthma attack, and then the rest of the night he spent confused as to why he even thought of worrying in the first place.

He knew he cared about her; he wasn't completely blind to his emotions. But Daryl had tricked himself into thinking he cared about her the way he cared about Lori and Carl or any of the others.

When he eventually seemed to find peace and sleep was about to take him, he heard the excitable pitter-patter of children's feet running up and down the corridor. He groaned, stuck his head under his pillow and wished he had kept some of the sleeping tablets for himself.

-

The morning came to Layla a little fuzzy. Her head spun a little and her stomach growled demandingly. She found it strange awaking without any sort of natural light hitting her face or being disturbed by nightmares and screams.

After a quick freshen up, Layla felt like she could almost pass for feeling normal. As if she could leave her new home and cycle her way to work, sell fruits and vegetables all day, cycle home and cook dinner, maybe read a book, upload some of her art online. Her fantasy of normal life made her heart ache.

The breakfast table was already half full when she got into the kitchen area. T-Dogg was cooking, Glenn was facedown on the table, groaning in agony.

"You look like shit." Layla laughed at Glenn as she sat next to Jacqui at the table, happy to see Andrea sipping at her coffee. Andrea gave her a smile, a silent sort of thank you.

"How you feelin' sunshine?" Dale asked, passing her a hot cup of coffee.

"Ahhh, thank you! Honestly, I feel great." Layla smiled.

"You look it." Jacqui said, "Sleep has done you the world of good."

"I think T-Dog's eggs are gunna make me feel superhuman." Layla commented as T-Dog passed her powdered eggs and toast, "Thank you."

Breakfast passed pretty well, and other than a few awkward glances at Daryl and the incessant groaning from hungover Glenn the morning was pleasant. Layla even got started on the first chapter of her new book, Tayari Jones' 'Untelling,' which she found stacked on top of the fridge. Reading it made her wonder where about this author was in the world. Was she okay? What about her family? The book focussed a lot on Atlanta; did she live there? Was she hurt when the city was overrun?

Layla was finishing up with her breakfast by the time Rick and Shane, both equally hungover looking, arrived for breakfast.

"Don't ever ever ever let me drink again." Glenn groaned.

"Oh my god, you're so dramatic!" Layla laughed at him with a roll of her eyes.

"What the Hell happened to you? Your neck?" T-Dog said to Shane suddenly, distracting Layla from picking on Glenn. Shane had dark red scratches on his neck.

"I must have done it in my sleep." Shane excused.

"Never seen you do that before." Rick commented.

Layla's immediate thought was _'Rick has watched Shane sleeping?'_ and that thought jumped to, _'Is Shane hiding something?'_ which jumped very quickly to, _'I suppose, with the way the world is, sleeping habits can easily change.'_

Jenner had now made his way towards breakfast, and after a quick greeting Dale was straight in with the questions on everyone's minds.

"I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing-" Dale started awkwardly, the way he does when he's trying to be polite but also trying to get as much information out of you as possible.

"But you will anyway." Jenner interrupted and Layla thought this quite amusing. She liked Jenner. He was a good man. She drew him at some point the previous day and wrote, 'DOCTOR J MAN – TRYNA SAVE THIS SHITTY PLANET' at the top of his page.

"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea said. She had a point.

Doctor Jenner sighed, took a big sip of his coffee and told everyone to follow him. He led them back the way they came, into the huge open area full of computers screens and keyboards and big fancy projectors. It was dark and Layla couldn't help feeling a little nervous at what Jenner was about to show them.

"You think this will be good news or bad?" Layla asked Glenn.

"I'm usually an optimist, but since the world went to shit, I'm guessing this is going to make everyone reeeeal sad." Glenn commented, his eyes puffy and dark from his excessive alcohol consumption.

Jenner fumbled around with the computers for a moment, screens flickering and fingers tapping against keyboards. There was a click and a beep and then Jenner said loudly, "Give me a playback of TS-19."

VI, the voice of the computer system spoke back confirmation, "Playback of TS-19."

The systems beeped and a huge bright blue display lit up against the wall showing 3D views of a human being, its skull and brain bright and buzzing.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few." Jenner stated. Layla gulped as she took in the images on screen.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked, the boy extremely interested.

"An extraordinary one. Not that it matters in the end." Jenner said glumly, "Take us in for E.I.V."

VI spoke loudly again, "Enhanced internal view."

The screen that lit up the wall changed, zooming in to the upper shoulders and head of the human which the system seemed to be scanning. The screen magnified the image of the skull, the brain becoming more and more detailed the closer it got. Bright blue thread of energy darted all over the place, some lighter and some darker, pulses of light flowing throughout.

"It's beautiful." Layla smiled up at the screen, remembering fondly her science lessons in high school and just how much she hated learning about synapses and electrolytes. She couldn't help thinking that if her teacher had shown her this she might have enjoyed it a little more.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked.

"It's a person's life—experiences, memories. It's everything." Jenner explained, "Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl asked, just as confused as a lot of other were. Layla wasn't confused. She understood. And she found it magnificent.

"Those are synapses; Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages." Jenner explained, "They determine everything a person says does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick asked.

"Yes. Or rather the playback of the vigil." Jenner confirmed.

"This person died? Who?" Andrea asked, concerned.

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected... and volunteered to have us record the process." Jenner explained, "VI, Scan forward to the first event."

VI repeated and confirmed the command as she continued to do the entire time, beeping loudly and displaying the correct information against the wall. As the group watched the human struggled, its brain that was once bright and beautiful becoming black, like roots growing from the centre and plaguing every little ounce of what that person once was.

"What is that?" Glenn asked.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands haemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be...gone."

Layla felt sick, watching this person suffer, watching everything they once were fade away and knowing that Jim and Amy were taken from them in this way hurt to see. Layla bit her lip hard to keep herself from crying in front of the kids again.

When VI scanned to the second event, Jenner continued to explain, "The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... seven seconds."

The colour at the base of the brain lit up a deep red, flickering and sparking amongst the dark roots of dead memories. There was no longer a beautiful blue glow. There was no longer a person.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically it gets them up and moving." Jenner explained.

"But they're not alive?" Rick asked.

Jenner gestured to the moniter, "You tell me." Rick said no. Layla agreed. They were no longer people.

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct." Jenner explained.

The subject on the screen moved wildly, its mouth opening and closing, snapping like the monsters roaming outside did so often. It's head moved side to side, its shoulders too, but a barrel of a gun appeared at the forehead and a bullet entered the brain like lightning in water, tearing through the red cluster of embers. The brain of TS-19 went completely dark. There was no more life. No more movement.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asked in a tone Layla thought held some sort of blame as the group all began to feel hope for the world diminish.

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui commented and suddenly Layla felt the urge to bring up the powdered eggs and toast that T-Dog had so kindly prepared for her all over the floor.

There was suddenly a panic, a bombardment of questions about other facilities, failed communications... the lot. Upon the realisation that there was nothing left anywhere Layla felt dizzy. She thought of her family, had they survived? Where they safe in some facility somewhere?

Jacqui looked about ready to cry and Layla grabbed her hand as Daryl made a passive comment about getting shitfaced drunk. Layla felt like that would be a very good option right now. Drown her worries in alcohol and maybe take a sleeping pill and see where that got her.

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question," Dale said politely, "but...that clock—it's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The basement generators—they run out of fuel." Jenner confirmed.

"And then?" Rick pressed on, but Jenner simply ignored the question. He walked out of the big room and away from the group.

"VI, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked.

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur." VI's voice boomed across the entire compound.

The group split off and most of the men hurried into the basement to find the generators. Layla held on to Jacqui, giving her a chair to sit in and squeezing her hand supportively.

"You okay?" She asked, "Need some water?"

"Decontamination." Jacqui said panicking, "What does that mean? Decontamination? I don't like the way the Doc just walked off like that. What does it all mean?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Layla said, crouching to Jacqui, "Just breathe okay? I think Jenner might just be exhausted from all the questions. The poor mans had to watch everyone around him die for weeks. He's been on his own dealing with that for so long...He might just need some time."

The group dispersed a little more and Layla had suddenly begun to worry. She helped Jacqui back to her room and hurried towards the living area that was filled with books and games. She riffled through files, books, anything that could help her understand a little more about the compound. And just when she thought to grab something as simple as a dictionary the whirring down of the power shut off her light source.

Hearing commotion in the hall she held onto the dictionary and popped her head out. Dale, Lori, Carol and Daryl paired with a liqueur bottle were out in the hall, following Jenner towards the room in which they once came from. The power continued to shut down, lights turned off and air flow stopped. Layla followed them.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick asked too when he didn't respond.

"The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule." Jenner explained, taking a swig from the bottle of liquor he had taken from Daryl. The whole group was around now, following Jenner's lead and watching him attempt to drink whatever sorrows he was hiding.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly and before Layla could set out to do what she had been trying she was being hurried into the room where she had slept so peacefully the night before and grabbing for her rucksack in a panic and frenzy that the group all mutually shared.

As she threw down her rucksack in the room the group still congregated in, large heavy metal doors slammed to the ground. Rick was running towards them in a panic.

"What was that?" Layla shouted.

"Did you just lock us in? He just locked us in!" Glenn shouted too.

Daryl suddenly made a run at Jenner, his fists balled up hard and ready to attack.

"You son of a bitch!" He shouted, trying to swing for him angrily but missing as Rick, Shane and T-Dog attempted to hold back the angry Dixon.

"Hey, Jenner, open that door now." Rick demanded.

"That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that. It's better this way." Jenner responded, way too calm for Layla's liking – or anyone's liking for that matter.

"What is? What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick demanded again, his patience and nerves wearing thin.

And then Layla remembered the Dictionary glued to the palm of her hand. She practically dived towards a desk and ripped it open searching for the letter 'D', and when she was at that section she frantically looked for the 'E' that followed. The place was dark now and as panic began to set in and words began to tumble from Jenner's mouth Layla found it increasingly difficult to search for the word she desired.

"You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!" Jenner shouted, breathing deeply and trying to collect himself after his outburst, "In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?" Rick asked.

"Layla what're ya doin'?" Daryl asked with a voice full of doubt and fear and anger. But Layla ignored him as she continued her search.

As VI's voice echoed once more across the compound, Layla's eyes finally landed on the word she wanted. She gulped as she read it aloud.

"Decontamination is defined as the neutralization or removal of dangerous substances, radioactivity, or germs from an area, object, or person." Layla said, "Neutralization? As in kill? Are you gunna kill us all?"

"-It sets the air on fire. No pain." Jenner said with a straight face, "An end to sorrow, grief...regret. Everything."

The children cried. The building was going to blow up. Was this the end? The liquor bottle Daryl gripped so dependently was thrown against the heavy metal doors sending the sweet smell of whiskey mixed with glass across the floor like diamonds in a pool of sticky dirty water.

"Open the damn door!" Daryl screamed.

The urgency for escape filled the room. Shane hammering the metal door with an axe, T-Dog and Daryl too, the children continued to cry. They pounded and grunted and tried so hard to break through... but nothing.

"You should've left well enough alone it would have been so much easier." Jenner said calmly.

"Easier for who?" Lori threw back, sitting with Carl in her arms, tears rolling down his scared face.

"All of you. You know what's out there. A short brutal life and an agonizing death." Jenner tried to explain.

"It's our lives to do as we please," Layla shouted, "Please Jenner. You're a good man. You know you don't get the right to decide how we choose to go on!"

Jenner turned to Andrea, "Your—your sister—what was her name?"

"Amy," She replied.

"Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it." He started turning to Rick, "Is that what you really want for your wife and son?"

"I don't want this!" Rick shouted.

"Don't you try to get into their heads!" Layla shouted, "This is inhumane!"

"I'm not trying to, I'm just telling you the truth. You will all die out there. Painfully." Jenner directed to Layla, who could feel her anger bubbling away inside her.

"How do you know that? And even if it were true, isn't it better to at least try? This isn't giving us a choice. You're taking the choice away from everyone!"

"You've seen it out there. You once wanted to choose this, what is so different-"

Before Jenner could even finish with his speech, Layla had gone for him, punching him in the nose with her clenched fist and making a sharp CRACK echo throughout the compound. Her fist hurt with the connection but her rage at his targeted words spurred her on. She pulled back her fist again in attempt to get another good hit. Before her fist could reach him Rick had picked the woman up, Dale worried and blocking her view from Jenner.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Rick shouted, attempting to calm her down whilst Jenner held his hand to his bloody nose. Layla struggled against Rick's strength and Glenn came rushing to her side too.

"This won't help okay?" Glenn said calmly as Layla's crossed eyebrows and tense muscles relaxed.

"You alright?" Rick asked as he gradually loosened his grip on the woman. Layla breathed deeply, fixing her messed her into a ponytail and nodded. She was out of breathe with rage, and she lied. No she wasn't alright. She was not about to sit here and watch this man decide the fate of her friends and their children.

It wasn't long before Daryl had also tried to smash in Jenner's head with an axe, and Shane had pulled out his gun. The groups patience was becoming thinner and as the clock on the wall counted down until their impending death they all became increasingly fearful.

But then, a sliver of hope, the hope that Rick continually talked about. Jenner had given in upon a conversation of his wife, TS-19, and unlocked the door Daryl had been continually beating on. It's large metal doors creaked open with its weight. Everyone stood to leave, grabbing anything of necessity and making a run for it. This place was going to blow and they would be damned if they didn't leave right away. Daryl, Carol and Sophia, Glenn, Rick, Lori and Carl all rushed to the exit.

"Hey, we've got four minutes left! Come on!" Glenn shouted to the rest. 4 minutes.

And then Layla heard it. The soft voice of Jacqui telling T-Dog, "No no. I'm staying. I'm staying, sweetie."

"But that's insane!" T-Dog protested. Layla stood in shock. Not Jacqui.

"Jacqui no," Layla said, her body near the exit but her legs unwilling to move and leave her friend, her arms full of goosebumps and she made her way back towards Jacqui, "You can't this is crazy!"

"No, it's completely sane. For the first time in the long time. I'm not ending up like Jim and Amy. There's no time to argue. And no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out." She called, directing her last shout to them all, "Get out."

Layla felt her heart break, she tackled Jacqui into a hug so hard she didn't think industrial machinery could break them apart, but they did. They parted. They had to.

"Dog, come on, man." Shane persuaded T-Dog to leave behind Jacqui, leading him with his arm and grabbing for Layla on his way out too, "Come on! Let's go! Let's go!"

Dale was still inside, gesturing for Jacqui to come, too, but she shook her head, folding her arms tightly against her and turning her back. She refused to give Dale an opening to persuade her because the hug Layla had given her almost broken her. She couldn't stand the look on Layla's face as she made her way out.

They ran to the lobby. The run strained Layla's chest but she pushed through, her wheezes not comparable to the pain her heart felt for Jacqui. Everything seemed to happen so quickly, like she was living in a haze. One minute she was reaching for Jacqui to join her, the next she was being pulled to the ground by T-Dog to avoid the explosion of a grenade. Glass shattered and the group ran. Layla couldn't feel her legs, she couldn't remember standing or getting to the RV. She couldn't remember Glenn letting her cry on his shoulder as she worried for Dale and Andrea who were nowhere to be seen.

She could however remember the flames that engulfed the C.D.C, a fireball of fury eating up the building from the inside. How the heat blasted from the windows, how the tanks and cars that lined the street near it blew up too, sucking in the flames and setting off like fireworks. The explosion sent ringing to her ears, heat to her face and loss to her heart. The roof collapsed in on itself. From behind closed doors, she knew that Jacqui and Jenner would have spent their last moments in peace, and as much as her heart ached, she was comforted.

Behind the sandbags Dale and Andrea hid from the fires, quickly making their way into the RV with the rest. Andrea crying; Dale looking guilty. The destruction left the group speechless, and for a long while they didn't talk. They collected themselves like they know they had to and they kept going. Kept going like they had done and would continue to do despite the odds. They drove away then, leaving the C.D.C and its deathly black cloud of smoke that rose into the sky behind them.


	13. Dead in The Water

"It's 125 miles," Layla said, tracing her finger across the map that was laid out across the bonnet of Shane's truck, "We even got enough gas for that?"

"No," Rick sighed, "But we'll find some." His voice swelled with unfaltering confidence. Rick had this way about him, Layla noticed, that seemed to keep the group calm and focussed. He was a survivor. 

The group had decided Fort Benning was their next best option. Layla was unsure about the journey, and even about the destination. They had barely made it out the C.D.C alive; were they really about to head to somewhere else that could be just as, or if not, more populated with the dead? After the near escape, Layla didn't know. She did know however that she trusted Rick, and she felt safer having him around. 

They had drove for a while after the C.D.C, only pulling over when the roads became thinner and the heavy black smoke seemed to sizzle away from the blue skies. They camped out in their cars during the night - nobody really getting any sleep as the groaning of the dead outside continued. Layla thought one day that the groaning would seem like white noise as the wind carried it, if she lived that long.

"You okay?" Rick asked as the group began to collect up any discarded items and fuel for the journey.

Layla just smiled. It was a smile that said she wasn't okay, but she had to be. If she wasn't strong, this world would break her. She had to let herself be shaped by this horrid world to survive. And surviving is what she wanted for herself now.

"If you need anything-" Rick began.

"Hold this." Daryl demanded, shoving a large red canister of gasoline into Layla's arms before scurrying off into the back of his truck. Rick gave her a little look of amusement before turning his attention from Layla to his family.

Layla followed Daryl, confused by his actions. "What? No please?" She said, "You need to learn some manners Dixon."

She followed him around the back of the truck, curiously watching as he prepared the motorcycle on the back. His crossbow clanged against his back as he manouvered the vehicle.

"What are you doing?" Layla inquired, the smell of fuel from the canister she held was so strong that it made her eyes water.

"What does it look like?" Daryl asked, holding out his grease soaked palm, "Give it here."

"You couldn't just hold this yourself?" Layla asked, passing him the gasoline canister with a look of confusion. If anything would have helped him it would have been to hold his crossbow, but he kept a strong hold of that like his life depended on it - which it sort of did.

"Looked like ye needed savin'." Daryl said, squinting his eyes against the sun to look at Layla. 

Her curls framed her face gently. She had on a pair of bootleg cut blue jeans that she found in an overturned car and Daryl thought she looked nice as the golden light hit her face and highlighted her cheekbones. 

Considering the jeans weren't hers, they fitted her perfectly, and they were surprisingly comfortable. Comfortable enough for Layla to brand them her 'ass kicking jeans' and suitablly write it in capitals along the bottom of the left legs seam in biro the night before, happy they were long enough to hide the bruises that littered her legs from her Uncle's weeks of torment.

Daryl thought she looked the most normal since the moment he had met her in that light, with no blood stains or worry or sadness ingrained in her face. She looked strangely content as she smiled down at him, like he wasn't filling up his motorcycle to escape the city full of the walking dead behind them.

"Well, aren't you my knight is shining armour." Layla smirked.

"Shut up." Daryl seemed to hold in a laugh and looked away from the girl, afraid if he looked at her again he'd say something weird and ruin the normality of her presence. 

"Didn't know you rode a motorcycle?" She asked, making conversation as Daryl successfully led the heavy metal bike off of his truck and onto the road.

"I don't," Daryl said, "It's Merle's. Got the thing years ago... it'll use less fuel than the truck so..."

"What kinda bike is it?" Layla asked, squatting to take a good look at the mechanics of the thing, "I'm not a know-it-all on bikes but my dad owned an old Harley when I was growin' up... made a hell of a noise when she started up."

Daryl liked that she called her Dad's Harley a 'she'. 

"It's a chopper," Daryl said, checking all the mechanics to distract himself from the woman, "Triumph Bonneville 650. She could do with some work," Daryl said, trying not to draw too much attention to his dislike of his brother's SS Army Sticker that gripped the bikes metal, "...but she'll do." 

Layla noticed the sticker. She also noticed the look on Daryl's face as he eyed it up. She didn't say anything - she didn't want to make him mad or upset - but she made sure later that day when she found herself sketching the tyres of the bike to scribble a smiley face over where the original sticker would be. 

"You comin?" Shane asked as he made his way towards Dale's RV. 

Layla nodded to Shane, her attention drawn away from Daryl as he hopped onto the bike, hands high on the handles above his head. The engine started up with a loud grumble; the suddenness of the noise made Layla jump, her hand instinctively reaching for her heart and her head ducking down.

Daryl laughed at her reaction as he kicked off on his bike, a big smile on his sweaty face. It was a smile that Layla had never seen before and one that made her chest feel warm. 

"That louder than ya dads Harley?" Daryl called to Layla as she followed Shane with a shocked laugh and her hand still over her heart. She hopped into the RV, gave Daryl the middle finger (in a way that friends would tease one another) and closed the door behind her as he sped around and in front of the RV, still laughing at startling the younger woman.

-

Leaving the last glimmers of Atlanta behind on the highway felt strange. Layla felt as though she was leaving a part of herself back there, and perhaps she was. She was leaving behind a weaker part of herself; the her that couldn't survive.

The RV was warmer now than before, and Layla couldn't help but wish Daryl had invited her for the ride. Being stuck in an overcrowded sweat box on wheels next to Andrea and Shane who were cleaning their guns and flirting like school children, Dale and Glenn who had been arguing over routes for fifteen minutes straight, and T-Dog who insisted on playing nothing but blackjack the entire time seemed like torture. Arguing with the redneck seemed much more appealing, especially when the cool air could get through her curls and she wouldn't have to wipe sweat from her top lip every five minutes.

It wasn't long before the RV slowed to a halt, and Dale let out a frustrated sigh.

"What is it?" Layla asked, desperate to be doing anything else than be in the RV. 

There was a truck overturned in the road, its wheels on its side taking up all the concrete ground the cars needed to get through. The rumbling of Daryl's bike came closer and it suddenly became apparent to Layla that Daryl's new bike was a huge win for the group. As Daryl led the cars slowly through gaps in the traffic filled lanes of the highway, Layla thought without him this group would truly be screwed. 

"Maybe we should just go back, looking at his map-" Glenn spoke, but Dale had other ideas.

"We can't spare the fuel." Dale explained, carefully manoeuvring the RV through the upturned cars. 

Calling the place a mess was to say the least. Bodies and blood littered the highway, clothes and limbs hung out of overturned cars. And when Layla thought she'd seen enough of the highway through Dale's dirty RV windows, the RV seemed to listen and retaliate, making a sound Layla could only refer to as a 'burst of air'.

The RV was dead.

"I said it," Dale said, opening the RV door and heading out into the Georgian heat, "I said it. Didn't I say it? A thousand times, dead in the water." 

Rick had left his vehicle now too and caught up with the group, "Problem Dale?"

"Oh its just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of-" Dale stopped his speech as he watched Daryl make his way through opened car trunks, "Okay that was dumb."

"Just a little." Layla said, partially glad to get out of the stuffy air of the RV. They were in a sea of cars, and surely one of them would have the part to help fix his RV and keep them moving.

"Lets get some fuel from a few of these cars for a start," T-Dog suggested, beginning to gather the equipment for collecting fuel and passing some to Daryl. 

"Some food," Andrea suggested.

"Water." Glenn added.

"This is a graveyard." Lori said sadly. Her voice was weary and sounded in protest.

It was true. They were surrounded by dead bodies of people who failed to escape the disease of the city, "I don't think we have much option." Layla said sadly. If they had other choices then this would not be one she would make willingly, but food and water were scarce and if they didn't come across another car after this for miles they would be in trouble. They had to do what they had to do to survive.

"I don't know how I feel about this." Lori seemed unconvinced.

"Come on y'all," Shane began to direct, "Just look around, gather what you can."

And so they did. Glenn began to fix the RV, with Andrea returning inside, Daryl and T-Dog collecting fuel and Dale and Rick keeping lookout, the rest could begin to look for supplies.

Weaving in between cars, it was hard for Layla not to keep her eyes wide and breathing unsteady. She felt like prey being hunted, trying to stay as quiet as she could in fear that the dead could pounce up from inside a car at any moment.

She chose a red car, barely grazed with scratches or dints and only housing a few leaves. The door was open and window smashed. No bodies in sight. The glove box was empty save for an old Maroon 5 CD, a tiny bag of weed and a black lighter with 'I LOVE NYC' written on the side. She took the weed and laughed at the thought of ever being able to have a joint in a world like this.

A car not too far from her other choice was a little more hard done by. Blood was spattered along the front seat and steering wheel, the bloody imprints of a hand on the drivers door handle gave her a vision of a woman trying to pull herself away from death. It sent large shivers like electricity up her spine. But nothing made her feel as sad as the body of a child still buckled into its seat on an overturned school bus.

She had prayed for a new book and got a body. Other than the small baggy of class B's, she found pads, painkillers, and a few pencils. 

And then a hand clasped around her mouth. 

At first she struggled against the arms wrapped around her, pulling her backwards from the upturned school bus. She tried to scream against the palm pressed into her face, wriggle out of the attackers grasp, stomp on their foot, anything... but soon the familiar sounds of Daryl in her ear shushing her to be quiet stopped her assaults. 

He let go of her and pointed to the floor, pushing her delicately towards a car nearest to them. They were in trouble, and silence was their saviour. 

Moans of the impending herd of dead only now seemed to hit her ears. She didn't think on his instructions. She trusted him, diving under the car he had silently pointed to, and scraping her hands and knees on the rough concrete as she went. 

How could she have been so unaware? How had she been so careless? She berated herself as she curled into a ball and tried to escape any sort of outside light that would give her location away to the dead.

She could see T-Dog struggling from underneath the car, blood soaking his clothes. She watched as Daryl covered them both with the bodies of the dead, a tactic Layla didn't even know would work.

And then came the herd. 

They shuffled their feet tiresomely along the highway, huddled together and moaning for a fresh taste of blood. Layla was afraid to breathe, her hand holding her own mouth closed as she watched the scuffed and sometimes shoeless walkers stagger past. Her eyes kept locked onto Daryl and T-Dog, who lay almost entirely exposed not too far from her sheltered form. It was painful watching uselessly as T-Dog's blood began to soak the concrete of the road.

It seemed like she laid there for centuries, but when the moans got quieter and the sounds of feet next to her head completely disappeared Layla felt like stone. She was unable to move, cursed to lay underneath the car for the rest of her life until the dead eventually found her. But she did move of course, because Daryl did.

He jumped up, straight to aid T-Dog and Layla was continually surprised by how quick-to-act he was. She envied his bravery and his courage. He had not only saved himself, but her and T-Dog too.

Layla rolled out from underneath the car, removed her outer shirt, one she wore religiously to hide her arms. She ignored that the bruises wrapped around her arms were now on show and instinctively began to wrap it around T-Dog's bleeding arm and apply pressure. He didn't make a sound, but his face was ashy and etched in pain.

"Come on." Daryl hurled T-Dog back to the RV. Layla was unable to take the weight of T-Dog on her back without her lungs wheezing and so Daryl refused to let her help.

They were barely at the RV for a moment before Daryl was off out again, crossbow in hand and into the woods with Rick. 

"What's going on?" Layla asked as she sat T-Dog down, avoiding the dead walker that lay on the floor of the RV. 

"It's Sophia," Andrea said, "She ran off into the woods. They can't find her."

"Shit..." Layla said, fear vivid on her face, "Is Carol-"

"What do you think?" Andrea interrupted. 

If T-Dog hadn't have been bleeding all over the place then Layla thought she might have asked Andrea what her problem was. But disagreements over attitude was not the main priority. Layla was hot-headed, but judging by the scene on the RV floor Andrea had had a close call herself. The entire group was on edge and Layla had to stay as calm as she could for the better of everyone around her.

Layla wasn't a nurse, nor was she trained in any form of health and safety. But amongst the rest of camp her, Rick and Shane were the only two who had stitched a wound. So, Shane and Layla got to work, cleaning and sterilising T-Dog's arm with alcohol, stopping the bleeding and then shortly after Shane let Layla go ahead with the stitching.

"Your hands are a lot more delicate than mine," was the excuse, and off he went, helping to clear a path for the RV with the rest of the group members that were not searching for Sophia.

"How are you feeling?" Layla asked T-Dog as she began to finish stitching his wound. 

"How do you think?" T-Dog had looked away the entire time but now his eyes were flickering over to Layla's handiwork.

"I'm sorry," Layla tried her best to smile, "Just tryna distract you."

"You think they'll find her?" T-Dog asked after a moment, worry placed with the missing child and not on his own well being.

"Daryl's a great hunter," Layla reassured, "If he can track a squirrel, I'm sure he can track Sophia." Layla was confident in Daryl's abilities, but then again, a human wasn't exactly the same as a squirrel. 

"There, you're all done. You gotta keep it clean, I'll just go have a little look around for some antibiotics and painkillers cause you're gunna need 'em."

Layla left T-Dog to rest a moment, stepping away from the RV for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The group were keeping busy outside, clearing a path for the RV when Rick and Daryl got back, no Sophia in sight, the sun setting behind the trees they came hurrying out of. She looked down at the purple marks on her wrists, trying to attach her arms as close to her as possible to hide them. Bruises weren't something the group took as out of the ordinary, but the aged look of the sore ones around her wrists didn't bade too well on her chances of avoiding looks or questions.

And all too quickly a crowd had formed to hear for information. Layla kept away, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans, scared of what she may hear and dreading the pain in Carol's voice. She could barely hear the conversation but the softness in Daryl's usual rough voice as he spoke to a worried mother was surprising and based on the way Carol began to sob it became hard to stomach. 

The group stood in silence, a wave of unsettling grief resting on their shoulders; each wishing that it would have been them and not a little girl.


	14. Sleepless

fourteen.

She cried quietly that night, unable to face laying in her bed and closing her eyes. It had only been two days since Jacqui's death and she still hadn't quite gotten used to not having her around. She always slept next to her, Jacqui passed out on the sofa to her right, Amy to her left whilst Layla looked up at them from the RV floor. She would always whisper to her about her home, about how she missed how her soft pink rug would feel on her feet in the bathroom after a hot shower, about her neighbours, her family, her friends. Now there was only an empty sofa with a space on the floor that felt even colder than before. Jim's hat still sat in the same place he had left it, looking down at her as her tears fell silently onto her pillow. And to make matters worse a child was missing. A child so sweet, so innocent, so unprepared - lost in the woods. This world was cruel and Layla hated it.

The nights seemed to drag sleeplessly anyway, but upon hearing Carol's soft wheeping for her child and Andrea's muffled cries for the loss of her sister it made it all so much more unbearable; she couldn't stand to be inside the RV a minute longer. Sunrise was only a few hours away, the fresh air would do her good.

She pushed her fluffy socks into her boots, zipped up the gray fleece Dale frequently let her borrow, and quietly escaped the RV. An empty feeling in her stomach seemed to cry out - she missed how back at the camp Amy would always tell her to be careful if she wandered alone at night. There was no more vocalised concern.

The RV steps creaked a little as she stepped down onto the highway gravel. She knew she was safe - Daryl sat in a campers chair outside, shotgun beside him and crossbow on his lap. Layla noticed how different he looked with extra layers on disguising his usual dirtied sleeveless attire. He looked cosy despite the weapons. He eyed her curiously, noting how cute she looked with her hair up messily shoved beneath the hood of Dale's fleece, the edge of which just skirted the tops of her knees. He smirked at the sight of her fluffy pink socks peaking out of her boots - a stark contrast to the muddied black leather. 

If the world hadn't gone to shit, the two could have passed as normal happy campers.

He was fiddling with the string on his crossbow, smoothing it out with his fingers in search of any weaknesses, but his eyes stayed locked on the woman as she came to join him in the fishing chair next to him. She yawned as she fell into the seat, leaning her head right back so she was comfortable.

"You ever sleep?" Daryl asked, averting his gaze as she looked over to him. His voice quiet but still just as deep as usual for the redneck.

"How'd you know I'm not sleeping now?" She joked, closing an eye.

"Yeah. It makes sense you'd be annoying in ya sleep too." Daryl teased.

"Shut up." She chuckled. 

"You alright?" He asked curiously, wondering why she wouldn't be trying to get some rest in before tomorrow's search.

"Why you asking?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Can I not ask?"

She chuckled at the excess of questions, "I don't think we've ever had a conversation where we don't communicate in questions."

"You sure?" Daryl asked with a smile, looking at her. 

"Oh, God." Layla chuckled again at his joke, "Yeah, I'm okay." But her voice broke a little and she knew she'd gave herself away, "It's just...Jacqui..and Jim."

Daryl nodded sadly. He knew she'd bonded with them both, finding comfort in their lone-wolf type characters soothing as she could relate. He thought how now, without Merle, he felt like that too, "I know."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"S'nice to ask, ain't it?" She smiled at him thankfully. "T-Dog okay?"

"For now. He's in pain but he's not bleeding out," She replied, looking to the man who still continually fiddled with his crossbow, "Thank you, for today...or yesterday."

He momentarily stopped his crossbow tendings to look at her, "You don't have to say thank you."

"I do. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you," He stayed silent, but nodded at her appreciatively, "You know, when you're not being an ass you're kinda nice."

"Kinda?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Don't push it, Dixon."

It suddenly dawned on him he didn't know her surname. Layla had been fondly - maybe at times not so fondly too - calling him Dixon, and yet he didn't have a clue what her surname was.

"What's ya surname?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Ya family name. I ain't never heard ya mention it is all."

"That's cause no-one ever asked," She smiled at him, genuinely happy he had taken somewhat of an interest in her. She knew their relationship had been better since the C.D.C, but still, out of everyone to ask of such a trivial thing in this current world like a surname, she didn't expect it to be Daryl, "It's Di'Lupo."

"What's it mean?"

"Everyone in high school used to call me Loopy Layla 'cause they thought it meant psycho," She recalled fondly, despite the memory never previously being a great one for her, "It actually means wolf."

"Ya name is Layla the wolf?"

"Yeah." She chuckled.

"That's badass." 

Layla couldn't help the hearty laughs at this. She tried to stop herself by covering her mouth with her hand. He hadn't seen her laugh like this. Not with anyone.

"You want walkers to hear us?" Daryl asked attempting to hush her but inside beaming he'd caused such a reaction out of her.

"Don't make me laugh and then blame me," Layla defended with a smile, "Besides, I'm a lot more afraid of the rath of Andrea being woken up than any walkers."

It was Daryl's turn to try not to laugh. It was the first either of them, besides the boozy night at C.D.C, had had a real chuckle in a long time - including before the outbreak.

"Ya want a coffee?" Daryl asked.

"Now?"

"I owed ya one, remember?"

"You don't owe me anything anymore."

"Well, then tell me more about them." He pointed at the sky, completely abandoning the work he was doing on his crossbow.

"The stars?" She raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden interest.

"Yeah, ya know about 'em." 

"You've changed your tune," She eyed him suspiciously, "Fine. You see that thing there? Big thing, one of the only ones not flickering?"

Daryl followed her finger, squinting at the sky and nodding when he found it, "That's Mars."

"Mars? Like the planet?"

"Yeah. You can tell you're lookin' at a planet if it doesn't flicker. Stars flicker cause of all the gas and shit. But planets, they don't." She explained, "And you see those big three, they kinda make a triangle if you line them up right?"

Daryl took another moment to search where she pointed, "Oh yeah, I see 'em."

"That's called the Summer Traingle. That one is Altair, The second is Deneb, and that last one is Vega. And all of those are the brightest stars in their constellations so it's easier for us to see them."

"How'd you know all this stuff?" Daryl asked her.

"As a kid I fell in love with the guy who sold tickets at the Planetarium." She laughed, not embarrassed by her childishness, "Eventually, I kinda fell more in love with the sky than I did him."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven."

"How old was he?" Daryl smirked, acting shocked to tease her.

"I don't know like seventeen, don't make fun of me!" She hid behind her hands, her cheeks now flushed at the enquiries, "What, you never have a crush as a kid?"

He doesn't answer, instead, he retreats a little. The topic of crushes not something that came easy to talk about to Daryl - the clearly love-starved deeply sheltered Dixon man.

After a moment of awkward silence, Layla looked up at the sky again, sighed, and whispered, "You think aliens are real?"

"What?" Daryl asked with a chuckle, continually wonderous at how her brain worked the way it did. She hadn't realised she'd said the question aloud until he responded.

"Aliens. You think anything else is out there?" She nodded at the deep dark night sky.

"Never thought about it."

"You've never thought about Aliens?" She asked in shock, her eyebrows crossing.

"Ya spend a lot of time thinkin' about 'em or somethin'?" His smirk was still set on his face.

"Duh. The Universe is waaay too big for nothing else to be out there."

"Well," Daryl started, "If they are, they sure as hell won't want to come visit this planet."

"Probably," She smiled, although a little sad at the prospect of being reminded the world was in a state of disarray. Her eyes stayed locked on the sky for a while, both of them sitting in silence until a streak of light broke out against the pitch black, "Holy shit, did you see that?"

"What, Aliens?" Daryl asked sarcastically.

"No," She giggled, "Look. Watch." There were a few more sudden flashes of light grazing across the sky. They shot so quickly it was hard to even be sure they had seen them, but they continued to watch for another moment still. Layla wondered if it was even worth wishing on a comet, but she did anyway. 

Daryl had started to fidgit with his crossbow again, running his fingers along the string and pulling it back as if to arm it, only to release it again and continue fiddling. 

"What are you doing?" Layla asked curiously.

"Checkin' for any nics."

"Why?"

"Don't want any weakness or snapped bows." 

"Where'd you learn to shoot?"

"What is this, 21 damn questions?" Daryl asked the younger woman, confused and suspicious of her questions. He was unused to attention, unused to anyone making effort to get to know him.

"Okay, fine, I won't make conversation." She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the chair, trying not to let his sudden shift in attitude annoy her too much. She understood he was a very private person.

He sighed though, feeling a little bad for his reaction. Opening up a little couldn't be too bad, right? 

"I taught myself. Me and Merle used to go huntin' all the time back home...if we weren't drunk or fightin'. I've always known how."

Layla thought he sounded sad as he mentioned Merle, mentioned the fighting. She didn't pry but continued her conversation, determined to at least try to get to know him a little better. Daryl had this appeal of mystery surrounding him - perhaps that's why she found herself thinking about him when she wasn't thinking about death and blood and destruction. He came as a nice distraction... a new interest. 

"Are you from Atlanta?" Layla asked.

"The Mountains," Daryl confirmed.

"Must have been nice, the views I mean," Layla sighed, "It's real pretty in the Mountains."

"You ever been up there?" Daryl asked, curiously.

"Yeah. A couple of times actually. Mom and Dad wanted to move up near Dawson."

"What? Too redneck for ya?"

"No," She rolled her eyes still with a smile, "With Mom's treatment we couldn't afford to move."

"Not even to redneck country?" Daryl seemed surprised as she shrugged, "I thought you were some rich college girl."

"You clearly know nothin' much about me," She scoffed at the thought of her ever going to college with the way she had been before the outbreak, "We sold Veggies Dixon, we weren't millionares. We were poor as shit." She shook her head, "I kinda like North Georgia, I never had a bad experience there. The views were beautiful."

"Maybe. I could never really enjoy 'em, too busy lookin' after myself."

"Merle not look after you?"

"Course he did," He tutted, "When he weren't in Juvy. When he was I had to fend for myself, and the Mountains weren't too nice if ya got lost in 'em, I can tell ya that."

"Daryl Dixon getting lost? I don't believe it." Daryl was momentarily distracted because he realised he had never heard her say his name before. Not his first name anyway - he was always just Dixon to her.

He coughed a little, avoiding her stare in favour of his crossbow, "I got lost for nine whole days in that place, only eatin' berries." 

"What? How old were you?" Layla asked concerned.

He shrugged, "I was just a kid. I got myself back home eventually."

" _You_ got _yourself_ home? What, did no-one look for you?" The concern on her face made him feel awkward.

"That ain't important now," He knew she only meant to sound concerned but his anxieties immediately told him it was just out of pity, "Just makes me think we'll find the girl, y'know? If I can survive without anyone lookin' for me, she can make it with all of us searchin' for her."

"She'll make it with you lookin'," She sighed, "I really don't know what the group would do without you."

"Nah. Rick and Shane, they're good with all this-"

"No, I'm serious. You're just as good at this stuff." She intrupted, not letting him finish being humble.

He shook his head with a small smile and looked at his lap again, thankful the lack of light hid any semblance of a blush, "Whatcha done with Curls 'cause ain't no way she'd be givin' me compliments like that for nothin'."

"I'm always nice to you, Dummy."

"Liar."

Layla chucked, but got serious again after a moment, unable to stop the words coming out her mouth, "Why did no-one look for you?"

Daryl just stared at her, unsure of how to go about answering a question like that. She got flustered under his stare, unable to read what he was thinking or whether she had just ruined what was turning out to be a rather pleasant conversation, "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't...sorry, just forget I asked."

"It's alright," Daryl shook his head. He knew she was just curious about him, in much the same way he was curious about her, "My Dad was a drunk. Mom had died - burned the whole house down by chain-smokin'." He shrugged, "Just wasn't important to 'em I guess."

Layla frowned a little, not taking her eyes off the man as he spoke, "To them maybe. You are certainly important."

Daryl once again found himself not knowing what to say in response. It was like anything he thought in his head couldn't translate to his mouth so he just stared at her; he could hear Merle in the back of his head telling him he was a pussy and turning soft. He wasn't used to being thought of as important, he wasn't used to compliments or being noticed. He so desperately wanted to ask if she thought he was important, but the anxiety bubbling away in his mind made sure he knew she just means to the group.

Layla felt incredibly sad about Daryl. She didn't want to baby him or make him feel pitied, but she had an urge to make him feel seen. Understood. Appreciated. It made sense to her, the reason why he was the way he was; sheltered, detached, starved of affection or attention or even mere thought. Even from the littlest sliver of his past, it was obvious - no-one had ever seen worth in him and so he didn't see worth in himself. And Layla was mad. Because despite their little arguments Layla thought Daryl was great. He was wonderful. He was hardened and strong and brave, he was confident and humorous, and yeah, even kind when wanted to be. 

Telling him her thoughts would have came off a little strong. They practically just met, she couldn't be spouting off about how amazing she thought he was, she'd only embarrass herself and push him away. 

So, they didn't talk anymore, but sat comfortably in silence until Layla, without even realising how or when, fell asleep comfortably in the camping chair. Daryl was left to his thoughts, although his eyes were distracted as they fell to her every now and again, checking her chest still moved up and down with her breath and her soft snores.


End file.
